Warning! This story may become sexually explicit as it progresses. If you are not of legal age to read erotic stories or are offended by erotic writing do not read any further. To contact the author cut and paste making appropriate corrections and E-mail: redcock28 "at" yahoo "dot" com Subject line: Camp Hovey
Camp Hovey R. R. Rumphol
Chapter 1: Welcome to Korea
On a beautiful spring day in 1966 I arrived in South Korea : a freshly minted nineteen year old Army infantry paratrooper from the Midwest . I was originally on orders for the new war being waged in Vietnam ; however, when I arrived in Oakland , California , my orders were suddenly changed rerouting me to Korea . What a shock. I'd been trained and prepared to go to the Republic of South Vietnam to kill people. Once there I'd been told by those who trained me I would in all probability die there within a few days or weeks after arrival before ever killing a Viet Cong. I'd been given a reprieve from a most certain death sentence. My new orders stated that I would proceed to Travis Air Force Base for military air transportation to the designated replacement company in South Korea .
Hell, before arrival in Oakland I'd never been further west than St. Louis let alone outside the boundaries of the United States . I'd never given any serious thought to Korea and didn't know much about the place other than the Korean War ended in 1953. So, why the sudden need for me, a trained infantry paratrooper in Korea , there were no airborne units in Korea in 1966 that I knew of. The Oakland Army Terminal was located on the Oakland waterfront just south of the eastern entrance to the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge.
The base was commissioned on December 8, 1941 , just one day after the attack on Pearl Harbor . The terminal's mission was to ship men and material into the Pacific areas of operation during World War II. Tens of thousands of soldiers and 25 million tons of supplies flowed through this terminal during the war. At the end of the war, the base served as a reception center for military personnel returning from the Pacific. After that, it was a major distribution point for war surplus material.
In 1965 the sprawling waterfront base began gearing up for the war in Vietnam . A year later Oakland Army Terminal changed to Oakland Army Base, whereby it would become home to the largest military port complex in the world during the Vietnam era. While processing at Oakland I ran into my buddy from Fort Benning . We'd been bunk mates while attending the three weeks jump school. After we finished Airborne School we departed to our hometowns for leaves before heading to our certain death in Vietnam . Of course we promised to stay in touch. We hadn't seen or heard from each other since departing Fort Benning , so we had a lot of catching up to do in between processing.
Needless to say, we were both happy to see each other, but a little taken aback by the sudden change in our orders when we arrived in Oakland . I was somewhat relieved, but Danny seemed pissed that he was being sent to Korea instead of an airborne unit Vietnam . I tried to console Danny reminding him that we still had enough time left on our enlistments to do twelve months in Vietnam after thirteen months in Korea . The assignment to Korea simply meant that we got to live for another year.
We remembered what some of the NCOs in Basic and AIT that trained us said. They'd told us that Korea was a choice assignment and if lucky enough to get over there we'd never forget our time in Korea . Danny smiled at me with that big smile of his and said, "I heard there's lots of pussy over there."
"We'll see my friend," I replied with a smile.
I'd discovered when we met at Fort Benning that Danny Dickman was a very smart kid from Fayetteville , North Carolina who'd joined the Army at seventeen sometime after graduation from high school. He came from a very conservative religious southern background. Me, I was a little older and more liberal. I'd waited over a year after graduation from high school to join the Army. I'd tried college for a year, but with all that was going on in America and around the world in the 60s I just couldn't stay focused. I'd been offered a shot at Officer Candidate School after I enlisted, but declined. Attending OCS meant at least six more months of good Army infantry training at Fort Benning , Georgia . Something I felt I could do without.
A commission in the Army in 1966 as a 2nd Lieutenant Airborne Ranger was a sure ticket to Vietnam . I as well as Danny had made Private First Class, Pay Grade E-3, out of AIT because of our high test scores. I'd been an acting leader in AIT, so I decided to make the best of my new Army assignment as an enlisted man and go as far as possible. Although Korea was considered a military hot spot there was no combat pay or combat badges authorized when I arrived in-country. When we arrived in Korea we both had about six months on active duty and another two and half year's obligation ahead before release from active Army duty. After that we faced three years reserve duty before we would be eligible for honorable discharges. I was hopeful that I could make sergeant while in Korea ; thus, making things more tolerable when I was reassigned stateside.
After processing almost nonstop through Oakland Army Terminal we received our new orders. The old sergeant handed each of us at least a dozen copies of our special orders telling to use the phone on the wall to call home and tell our parent's of our change in assignment. We both hurried to the phones to call home. The extract stated that we were to proceed by air movement from CONUS to ASCOM where the 38th Replacement Battalion would further assign us. Our parent's seemed happy to hear we wouldn't be going to Vietnam . With our orders in one hand and duffle bag in the other we were herded onto buses for the ride up the highway to Fairfield , California .
As we rode along Danny and I talked about this and that: what was ahead for us. We both were a little fearful of what lay ahead as neither one of us had been outside CONUS. That's how the Army addressed the Continental United States. We knew there was no turning back, there was going to be no more creature comforts that we took for granted living in America . We were leaving the security of our homeland as well as our families and friends behind; hopefully we would make new friends in the next year. Were we scared? Hell yes, I think any young person in the military embarking on their first journey overseas is a little fearful of what lay ahead for them.
Both of us agreed we were going to miss a lot things once we left American soil. There would be no more freedom of getting into our hotrods cruising the local drive-inns; no more onion rings, burgers, malts or other fine foods and certainly no more round-eye pussy.
Danny confided in me somewhat sheepishly as we rode along in the bus that he was a cherry boy and wanted to score some pussy once he got to Korea to prove his manliness. I assured Danny that he was all man and pussy wouldn't make him more of man. He went on bashfully disclosing to me that he'd been a late bloomer as far as puberty, not entering puberty until high school. He'd heard as all of us had while in training that there was a great deal of pussy to be had in places like Vietnam , Korea and other places overseas. My buddy nervously admitted to me that all he'd done thus far in life was jack off.
I told Danny that he was alone. I'd seen Danny naked many times in the communal showers at Fort Benning . He didn't have anything to be ashamed of. At five feet ten inches he had a super tight brown muscular body with a very nice-looking circumcised cock hanging about four inches limp over his darker wrinkled scrotal sac. In my mind I imagined the limp noodle would grow to at least six inches or better all boned up. Something I'd secretly yearned to see since first viewing his naked body. A little timidly he told me that he would volunteer for fire watch, so he could beat his meat in private. I reassured him that I did too.
"I'm afraid I'll probably wear my dick out during my time left in the Army," Danny said.
"Me too," I replied with a smile.
I enjoyed beating my meat whenever I got the chance for secret sexual pleasure. Jacking off was something I'd become very adept at since about nine years of age. My first memory of fondling my erect penis was when mother caught me and my cousin in the bathtub the summer I was nine and he was ten. We were totally engrossed playing with our new found toys to such a degree that we didn't hear or notice mom enter the bathroom. We'd discovered a new game, playing with each other's hard penises and didn't plan on giving it up. Needless to say, mom was not impressed with what she caught us doing. Getting caught didn't stop us; it just caused us to be more discreet where and when we pleasured each other from then on.
One would think as much as I pulled and stretched my pud over the years that it would be a real dangler, hanging at least to my knee cap. Not a chance. A lengthy flaccid cock was a much admired and discussed thing around school back in the day. Guys with long limp noodles were said to be real cocks men. With all that hard work throughout my preteen and adolescent years the most I could get it to grow when erect was six and five eights inches in length.
I guess that is a respectable size for the average penis, but I wanted more. I wanted one of those monster mother fuckers I'd read about and seen on a couple of well used stag films. The ones that grew to eight, ten or twelve inches all boned up. The ones the owners had to hold with both hands and still have more cock hanging out. By the time I graduated from high school I'd given up trying to get my dick to grow any longer.
In high school some of us boys tried everything to make our dicks grow bigger, but no luck. Some of us even resorted to tying strings around the penises, putting a weight on the free end and letting the weight dangle down our pant leg. All that did was make our dicks sore and a couple times caused the penis to bleed.
Hell, we'd sit in class coaxing our cocks to grow while teachers groaned on with their boring lectures. Our mothers spent hours sewing up the ends of our pockets only for us to knock the stitches out the next day. We felt that the longer our cocks stayed hard the more likely the penis would grow, remaining the length that it was hard when it returned to its flaccid state. Nothing worked. I felt my hard dick inside my khaki trousers as we made the turn off at Fairfield towards Travis.
Once we arrived the bus passed through the main gate of Travis Air Force Base. The sign said Gateway to the Pacific. With the war in Vietnam at a full gallop Travis had been redesignated Military Airlift Command (MAC) on 1 January 1966. From Travis we would fly to Korea on a Flying Tiger charter Boeing 707, with refueling stops along the way, finally landing at Kimpo Air Base in Korea .
Two things that I remember after deplaning at Kimpo was the horrible smell that greeted us and the GG shot. At ASCOM our immunization cards were updated. We received shots need and changed our money. The gamma globulin shot was given in the buttock. That was a painful mother fucker. The experimental shot at the time was supposed to prevent Hepatitis. Some of the guys didn't fair well when the shot was administered. Any of us that had green backs had to trade them in for Military Payment Certificates. Danny and I soon found out a group of about thirty of us would be heading north to the 7th Replacement Detachment at Camp Casey .
Camp Casey , Korea , was Headquarters for 7th Infantry Division one of the last two American infantry divisions left in Korea . We boarded the bus for the long dusty ride north along roads clogged with crazy Korean drivers. We passed through dirty little villages where we could watch Korean people squatting along side the road to relieve themselves, what an adventure. None of us had ever seen anything like what we viewed during our ride north.
After the ride in the OD green Army bus we arrived at the shanty town city of Tongducheon before making the right turn towards the main gate of Camp Casey where there was more in-processing awaiting us as well as new assignment orders. The new set of special orders assigned both of us to the 32nd Infantry Regiment at Camp Hovey , Korea . After we finished in-processing at Camp Casey there was some free time that we took advantage. Finally, we boarded two OD green Army trucks for the short trek to Camp Hovey by way of a route called the cut.
Chapter 2: Camp Hovey
Once we arrived at Camp Hovey we got off the trucks with our duffle bags and formed up in front of the gaining battalion headquarters where we were welcomed by battalion commander and his staff as well as gaining company commanders. The Colonel walked through the two ranks of replacements, about twenty of us as I remember, inspecting his new men as he walked. All except Danny and I were ordered to get haircuts and shape up.
The Lieutenant Colonel stood in front of Danny and me saying in a low gravely voice, "You two are a couple of STRAC looking troopers, stand fast when the formation is dismissed."
"Yes Sir!" We both replied in unison.
I wondered why we were being singled out to remain behind. I'd heard the term STRAC before. The acronym was used a lot around Fort Benning , meaning outstanding appearing troopers who were tactically competent ready for action in combat. Back in the day many Officers and NCOs called airborne personnel troopers, whereas straight legs were simply referred to as soldiers. Our outward appearance was definitely a cut above the legs standing in formation along with us.
We were wearing spit shined bloused Cochran jump boots and overseas caps, called cunt caps, with the airborne glider patch sewn to the left front side; whereas, the other straight legs were wearing low quarters and flying saucer hats. I noticed that we were the only ones in the formation with 32nd Infantry crests on the epaulets of our starched cotton khaki shirts as well as unit citation ribbons above our right breast pockets. We were also sporting our novice jump wings and expert marksmanship badges with the M-14 qualification bars on the left side of our cotton khaki shirts. We'd made wise decisions to buy the gaining unit crests and ribbons for our uniforms while at Camp Casey as well as getting fresh haircuts. After a brief welcome speech the silver oak leaf LTC handed the formation over to his staff for our battalion orientation and briefing.
The briefing was a brief history lesson as well as some legal dos and don'ts while assigned to the 32nd Infantry and Camp Hovey . What really caught my attention was the Battalion Surgeon's speech. A Specialist Sixth Class advised us about all the nasty forms of venereal diseases found in Korea and how some of us might become infected at some point in our tour of duty if we failed to take preventative measures. If infected, said soldier was to report to the Battalion Aid Station immediately or suffer horrible medical consequences from his fray into the local villes visiting unclean whores.
One thing that stuck in my memory was that there was a so-called special form of VD that if infected would cause the infected soldier's dick to rot and drop off at his feet while taking a piss. Now as a horny nineteen year old approaching twenty who'd been known to engage in anything sexual with both females and males from about ten years of age I was a little concerned about that revelation.
I tried to put the special VD thought out of my mind at least temporarily, but the thoughts quickly returned as I remembered the earlier Steam and Cream. During our free time at Camp Casey we got our haircut, bought some items at the Post Exchange and finally stopped off for a Steam and Cream.
Steam and Creams are local massage parlors where GIs can score a massage plus anything from a hand job to a full fucking; depending upon how much the soldier is willing to spend. Believe me, the Korean gals new how to take advantage of new replacement soldiers arriving in-country. Before the unsuspecting soldier new what was happening the Korean girls would quickly part a GI from his money. I had opted for the mid range blowjob, paying for it with some of my new military payment script. I must say that was one of the better BJ I'd experienced in my young life; furthermore, it was not the last time I visited a Steam and Cream during my tour in Korea . However, I was much wiser with my MPC on future visits.
So, given the fact that I'd already had oral sex before the VD speech I had concerns about how clean and safe the girl was that performed on me. The last thing the Spec-6 said to us was that the Battalion Surgeon and staff had the authority to conduct short arm inspections when ever they felt the need. But most likely the inspections would be conducted only when there was a rise in cases of VD within the battalion.
A short arm inspection is unannounced and usually conducted during the early morning hours after all personnel have returned from off post pass. The company is called out and quickly formed up and then given the order to drop drawers. A medical corpsman with a flashlight then makes his way along the line of soldiers standing at attention, where by he would grasp the penis, milking it to see if any puss or blood was evident.
Now while I didn't mind having my dick played with I wasn't looking forward to the demeaning short arm inspection performed in public by battalion medics. The Spec-6 concluded his speech, reminding us that there were free condoms in each company's orderly room and for us to use them when engaging in sex with the local whores. With that said he turned the formation over to the battalion personnel officer.
The S-1 accompanied by a Spec-5 began calling out our names, rank, service number, and company assignments. I was assigned to B Company and Danny was assigned to C Company. The Army had seen fit to separate the two STRAC paratroopers. As soon as the move out order was given Danny must have forgotten his earlier directive and threw his duffle bag on his shoulders, forming up on his respective company representative. I remained standing along with two other PFCs.
The command was given to march. I watched Danny and the other replacements march off across the small bridge, marching to gaining company's orderly rooms for more in-processing and assignments to platoons and squads. The two other guys were medics who walked with the Spec-6 across the bridge to Headquarters Company. They were assigned to the Medical Platoon. Finally, a Major and Captain approached me asking, "Where's your buddy? Didn't the Colonel tell the two of you to stand fast?"
"I guess he forgot," I answered back, "I didn't remind him."
"You forgot to take care of your buddy. To remind him to stand fast, that's not what the buddy system is about, Private" The Captain with the Airborne Wings and Ranger Tab said, "Follow us into headquarters."
I put my duffle bag on my shoulder and began following the two officers, a little ashamed that I hadn't stopped Danny, towards battalion headquarters. I dropped my bag outside the HQ Quonset hut, following the two officers inside.
I was ordered to be seated. "What's your buddy's name?"
"PFC Danny Dickman, Sir!"
"Two paratrooper buddies, one named Dickman and the other named Rumphol, what the fuck are the chances of that." The Captain said with a chuckle.
"So, how much college do you have, Private?" The Major fired off.
"A year Sir," I responded sitting at attention I began answering a series of inquiring questions about my history prior to the Army.
"Why didn't you finish college, Private?" The Major demanded.
"You a fuckin quitter, Private? Obviously not you finished your training and jump school," The Captain chimed in before I had a chance to answer either officer's questions.
I went on to explain to the two officers why I dropped out of college. Apparently they bought my explanation. The flurry of questioning continued, "So, can you type?" The Captain asked.
"Yes Sir! Forty words per minute."
"Can you drive?"
"Yes Sir! I already have my Army driver's license for anything up to and including a five ton. I tested and got my Army license in AIT."
"If you had your choice of assignments in the battalion what would that be, Private?" The Major asked.
"Probably Recon, Sir," I replied, "If not B Company is fine, Sir."
"Why Recon," The Major asked.
"The adventure. I think Recon would be much more exciting and challenging than a rifle company, Sir."
"So, are you saying a rifle company is not exciting or challenging?" The Major fired back.
"No. That's not what I meant at all. I..." The Major cut me off before I could finish answering, asking more questions.
There were many more questions about my course of studies in high school and college as well as what sports and extracurricular activities I'd participated in while in school. Both officers seemed impressed that I'd taken four years of art and drafting classes. Of course the two wanted to know if I wanted to become a leader in the battalion. I tried to answer all questions honestly.
"What if you were offered a job here at battalion headquarters?" The Major with a Special Forces combat patch on his right shoulder and Ranger tab above the red and black hour glass patch of the 7th Infantry on the left shoulder of his fatigue shirt questioned.
"Sure. I mean Yes Sir!"
The two officers left me sitting alone in the small room. I could hear them talking with others about something outside the room. If offered a job in battalion I would take it, but I was still concerned about Danny and why he didn't remain standing beside me as told. Finally, the Captain returned telling me I was excused to report to the Sergeant waiting for me outside. I excused myself and went outside where a Buck Sergeant was waiting to escort me to B Company.
Chapter 3: Welcome to B Company
Once I arrived in front of B Company's orderly hooch I was greeted by the Company Commander and First Sergeant. Both men seemed to be pleasant individuals. The First Sergeant introduced me to my new Platoon Sergeant a black E-7, and then said, "PFC Rumphol I understand that you have your Army driver's license and can type."
"Yes Sir!"
"Don't call me Sir. I'm the Company First Sergeant not the Company Commander. I work for my Army pay."
"Yes First Sergeant!"
"Don't get too comfortable I doubt that you'll be with us long," The First Sergeant said.
"Why is that First Sergeant?" Have I already done something to offend you all?"
"No, nothing like that. You were held back and interviewed by the battalion staff, so you will in all probability be leaving for the head shed in a few days or weeks," The Captain said, "You'll probably be assigned to work some menial staff job at battalion for the duration. Battalion always gets the best of the best when replacements arrive. Apparently you impressed the CO and his staff."
I was finally handed over to my new Platoon Sergeant, but before walking away the First Sergeant said, "Private Rumphol, get to bed early tonight and rest up, tomorrow is mandatory company EIB road march. You got here just in time."
"That's just fuckin great," I mutter to myself. I'd been in the company less than a day and already going on a fuckin road march.
My Platoon Sergeant looked at me and laughing saying, "You'll do alright Private. You're fresh out of training and used to road marches and running. You'll be okay."
With that said the Sergeant First Class marched me up to another of those pale green Quonset huts.
"This is 2nd Platoon hooch," The SFC said walking me into the hut, "Two squads bunk in here."
A Quonset hut is a lightweight prefabricated structure of corrugated galvanised iron having a semicircular cross section.These half round steel buildings planted on concrete pads with windows along the sides and doors on each end are found all over Korea used for many things; however, this one or one like it would be my home for the next thirteen months when not camping out in the field.
Once inside the Q-hut I noticed on each side of the building were rows of single steel bunks. On a couple of the bunks the thin Army issue mattresses were folded and unmade. The Platoon Sergeant introduced me to my new Squad Leader. A red haired Acting Buck Sergeant who was in actuality a Specialist Fourth Class Pay Grade E-4, wearing Buck Sergeant stripes. Sergeant Pennington helped me get my gear secured before we headed to the supply room to draw my bedding and some other items I would need. From there we walked over to the Arms Room where I was assigned my weapon, bayonet and other items. After all that was done we walked back to the hut where SGT Pennington helped me make up my bunk.
After that was done the SGT said, "If you need anything else I sleep in the back room with another Squad leader."
"Okay."
"Oh, did Top issue you a meal card?"
"No Sergeant."
"Make sure you get over to the orderly house before 1600 hours to pick one up or you might not get any chow tonight."
The Acting Sergeant disappeared into his partitioned off cubicle with an OD green blanket stretched across the opening at the end of the hooch. I thought to myself he gets his own little room: a room by himself so he could jack off in relative safety. As I lay back on my bunk my mind was preoccupied imagining what the good-looking young Acting Sergeant might look like all boned up beating his meat in the back room.
I was a little concerned about how I would make out sexually while in Korea . I'd known since puberty that I was probably bisexual. Well, not necessarily bisexual, but I'd had sexual flings with guys as far back as the fifth grade and girls since just before high school. I simply enjoyed the pleasures of sex. I'd experimented with both guys and gals, but I'd discovered that some sexual stuff was better with guys while other things were better with girls. As I pondered my sexual dilemma my dick began growing inside my khaki trousers.
With my dick at a full state of arousal I was somewhat apprehensive about my future. I needed to relieve my hard on but I sure didn't want to catch VD, especially the strain that might cause my penis to rot and drop off. I knew before I exposed my family jewels to any local whore I wanted to get more information about the nasty diseases prevalent in Korea . I was proud of my penis and had been told by many of my partners, men and women, that it was a thing of beauty. My pecker was standing tall inside my pants when another squad member appeared in the platoon hooch.
"Hi, I'm PFC Nelson," the soldier said sticking his hand out jarring me back to reality.
I stood up accepting his handshake replying, "My name is PFC Rumphol," to that the other man smiled. Maybe, because he noticed I was tenting from a hard on or my name.
"Cool name. You got a first name?"
"Yeah, my full name is Richard Randall Rumphol. Dad named us kids using all Rs. Most people call me Ricky or Randy. Kinda prefer Randy."
"I see you went through jump school, Randy. How was it?" Nelson asked.
"Not too bad a lot of running, pushups and jumping out of planes that were ready for the junkyard."
"Hey why don't you get out of those khakis and into some fatigues before dinner," The PFC said.
"Yeah, I gotta go see the First Sergeant before 1600 hours to get my meal card."
"Well, you better hurry cause Top likes to get an early start to the ville to see his Yobo," Nelson said.
"Yobo?" I said questioning the meaning.
"A Yobo. A Korean Mistress. Most of the Senior NCOs have a Yobo. I think some of the Officers too, but on the sly," Nelson said.
"You got a Yobo," I asked.
"Yeah. Old Lady Palm," Nelson said holding his hand out making a back forth motion like he was jacking off a huge dick in the air.
"So, you don't go to the ville to get pussy?"
"Nope, pussy is too damned expensive for me. Beside I send half my money home to help my folks back in Kentucky . So, I just jerk off whenever to satisfy my needs."
My curiosity was peaked, "So, where do you jerk off?" I asked.
"In my bunk under the blanket or down in the latrine early in the morning. I take a long shower and jerk it in there a couple times a week," Nelson replied.
"Humm," I mumbled as I pulled on my last combat boot and began tying it up before I stood up.
"Come on secure your gear and let's go get you a meal card and get ready to go to chow," Nelson said.
"Tell me more," I said as we walked together toward the orderly hut.
"Another good place to jerk off is while you're on fire watch."
"Yeah, I'm familiar with that," I said with a smile.
"Another place is in the guard towers when you pull guard duty."
I locked that in my head for future reference, "Where else?"
"That's about it. Oh, wherever you do it watch out for Sid," Nelson warned.
"Who's Sid?"
"C.I.D. Criminal Investigation. Rumor has it that there's an undercover Sid in ever platoon in Korea . They're really huntin for queers."
"What for?" I asked.
"They want to catch the faggots and dopers," Nelson replied.
"You got to be shitin me."
"Nope, I've heard that Sid has already busted guys for jacking off in the latrines and guard towers along with other stuff. A couple Sergeants from Headquarters Company were caught blowin each other in their hooch down in the ville and then they just disappeared. The Sid cops just swoop in catches a guy jackin or whatever and the guy's never seen or heard about again. Like they are taken away by space aliens," Nelson said, "They've busted some guys for smokin pot in the guard towers too. But those guys just get an Article 15 and are back at work in a few days."
"So, let me get this straight. Guys get fucked in the ass by C.I.D. cops for jackin off, but get let off with an Article 15 for smokin pot or takin drugs."
"Yep."
"From what I've heard this battalion already has lost about half dozen guys this year for sexual shit, includin VD. So, watch yourself jackin off or getting pussy down in the ville," Nelson said.
"I don't plan on gettin any pussy until I get the straight scoop on the VD that will make my dick rot off."
"I've never seen that yet, but heard stories. I think it's probably scare tactics. Some guys do get the crabs or clap," Nelson said, "but I've only been here a little over a month, so I don't know that much.
We entered the orderly hut and asked the clerk for the First Sergeant. He appeared from the back so I asked, "First Sergeant I need to pickup my meal card."
"Here it is Top," The clerk said handing the card to the First Sergeant.
I thanked the First Sergeant and then Nelson and me departed towards the chow hall, another larger modified Quonset hut.
Nelson and I continued talking and every once in a while he'd introduce me to another member of our platoon or company. After chow I took a shower with a few other GIs, in the company's communal latrine, who were preparing to go into the local ville, Toko-ri, to drink and get laid. While in the latrine I shaved before hitting my bunk early, so I wouldn't have to shave the next morning. As I began drifting off to sleep I thought about getting a short-timer calendar, others had them. I had roughly twelve months, three weeks and days left in Korea before returning stateside for some safe sex.
That first night at Camp Hovey I was considering my departure from the comforts of the world and my arrival in Korea . I was wondering if joining the Army had been the smartest move I'd made in my young life; moreover, what had happened since arriving, what I'd heard and what lay ahead for me, especially the recent revelation about the C.I.D. cops and their witch hunt for homosexuals. That was a bit unnerving given my propensity for a little dick once in a while. Was there any sex in my future? I knew it wouldn't take me long to fall asleep after the long flight from CONUS to Korea, the ride north and finally the assignment to Camp Hovey: my home away from home for the next year.
[This fictional story about Korea set in the mid 60s is dedicated to all the brave men and women in the Armed Forces who serve or have served, protecting our way of life, keeping us free from oppression and tyranny. Especially, those unsung post Korean Cold War soldiers that stand today or have stood shoulder to shoulder with their Korean counterparts protecting the south from aggression from the north. These though well-trained fighting men endure and have endured much during their thirteen months unaccompanied tours in Korea . For many years they were not recognized for their bravery and hardships endured. Today they sit on a powder keg waiting for the short fuse to be ignited by unstable leadership in the north.
Although this story is fictional it may be based on certain real facts and settings; of course, names and dates have been changed. If by chance any readers recognize the places I refer to in the story feel free to comment. If I erred feel free to comment. Memory is a bitch when old soldiers get older. In fact, feel free to make comments and/or critique my work. I enjoy hearing from my readers. A response is the novice writer's form of payment and appreciation from readers. Let me know if I should leave this a short story or continue to follow the characters during their tour of duty in Korea .
I won't apologize for the lack of sexual situations in the first few chapters. I believe in writing, developing a plot line and characters before letting them indulge in sex. Think about it there are only so many ways to have sex and most of them have been covered in the many thousands of stories told on Nifty. The sex act only lasts a short period of time in most people's lives. Many of us do more thinking and fantasizing about sex than the actual event itself. So, if you are one that wants instant sexual gratification from a story maybe another story posted on the Nifty site is for you. I'm and always have been a firm believer in as much foreplay as possible before indulging in the actual sex act. If I have whetted your sexual appetite with the first three chapters let me know you want more.]