Date: Sun, 12 Jul 2009 20:05:12 -0700 (PDT)
From: redcock28@yahoo.com
Subject: Camp Hovey: Chapters 1, 2 and 3

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.]