Date: Sun, 21 Aug 2016 11:58:42 -0500 From: Robert Taylor <bobistraveling@gmail.com> Subject: Vietnam two Copywrite 2016. What follows is a true story as told to me by my father. He read and approved the story. I am honored that he asked me to write it. Please send any comments or questions to BrentXColdwell@gmail.com. VIETNAM It's 1967 and I'm a freshman in college. The war in Vietnam is raging and everybody is going there. I know I won't be an exception. I figured if I had to go I would rather be on a ship a couple miles off shore than sitting in a hole in the jungle with those little bastards trying to kill me. I'll be 18 on January second so I visited the navy recruitment office, raised my right hand and presto - I'm a sailor. I went home and told my folks. They were not happy about it but were not surprised either. On my birthday I drove to San Diego and checked in for boot camp, a three month ordeal that's going to make me a fighter. As boot camp neared it's end we were asked to fill out a 'dream sheet' indicating what we wanted to do, where we would like to be stationed, etc. I knew that hospital corpsmen were all being assigned to marine units which was the last fucking thing I wanted so I chose firefighter, photographer, anything that would keep me away from hospital corp 'A' school. On our last day we each received our orders and well, you guessed it, hospital corp 'A' school. I checked in to the school and immediately filled out a request for transfer. Later that day the leading chief walked up to me with the transfer request in his hand. "You Carter?" he asked. "Yes sir." The chief responded "Don't sir me kid. You don't see no gold here do you?" He didn't wait for an answer. He held up the request for transfer and ripped it in half. "You get straight A's here for five weeks. If you don't want to stay then I'll get you out of here. Understand?" I nodded my head but realized the chief wasn't looking at me. "Yes, I understand chief." "Good. Now catch up with your class." For the next five weeks I studied my ass off and did manage to get straight A's. Five weeks to the day I filled out another request for transfer. A couple days later I was told the captain wanted to see me. Now bear in mind I've only been out of boot camp two months and having to talk to a captain? He's got to be like sitting at the right hand of God. So I go to his office and I'm shaking like a leaf. His secretary ushered me in and the captain stood up, came around his desk and shook my hand, told me to make myself comfortable. Shit, like that's going to happen. The guy surprised me though. He didn't ask anything about the navy, my goals, anything like that. We talked about sports, our home towns, school. So after about twenty minutes he said he had a meeting to get to and asked me if I really wanted to leave. I told him I did and he said my orders were across the hall. With that, we told each other good by. He left and I went across the hall and picked up my orders. They said I was to report immediately to MCB-9 in Port Hueneme, California. Oh, and for those interested it's pronounced 'Y-nee-me'. Now, just getting out of boot camp I thought I knew most ship designations but MCB totally escaped me. I figured I'd just have to find out when I got there. I packed my car and headed north stopping in Corona to spend a couple hours with my parents and bring them up to speed on everything. When I left I told them I would probably see them on the weekend. It was about 9:00 PM when I arrived at Port Hueneme. I checked in and asked the guy on duty what the hell an MCB was. He said "That's a mobile construction battalion, Seabees. You know, like John Wayne and the Fighting Seabees? You are leaving for Vietnam in three weeks so keep your head down. I mean if you're gonna take a bullet you're gonna want it in the ass." I could think of a couple of things I wanted up my ass and a bullet sure as shit wasn't one of them. I found the barracks, went in and found an empty cubicle and crashed. I would shower and shave in the morning. After getting ready for work I went to the MCB-9 admin office. As I walked in the door the chief pointed me to an empty desk. "Sit. I'll be with you in a minute." I sat and watched the goings on. The chief pulled a chair up next to the desk. "Okay dude, first things first. When I say sit you find coffee first, then sit. This fucking outfit runs on coffee, hot black and strong. Hope you like it that way, if not, tough shit. Alright, second thing. As of now you are the battalion's legal yeoman and you report to Lt. Rogers, Jim Rogers, he's right over there. Last thing but most important. When we get over there you see someone who doesn't look right, shoot his ass. We'll worry about whether or not you should have later. Got it?" "Got it chief. Can I ask a question?" "Go for it kid." I asked "Why am I the legal yeoman? I don't know shit about nothing yet." The chief responded "You're legal yeoman cause I said so. Got it?" "Got it chief." The chief smiled. "I knew you were smart." I spent the rest of the morning setting up my desk with supplies I figured I would need. At noon the men got up and headed out the door. The chief stopped at my desk. "We're headed over to the club for lunch. We pretty much function as a group so come on." I told him "I can't get in the club chief. I'm only 18." The chief responded "This time tomorrow you're 21 or your ass is grass and you won't like my mower." With that he left with the others. I went over to the geedunk and bought a sandwich and coke, wolfed them down and returned to the office. When the crew arrived back I told Ernie, a short little shit from some godforsaken place in Kentucky what the chief told me. "How the fuck am I going to be 21 by tomorrow?" Ernie got my service record and put a form in his typewriter. He filled it out and handed it to me saying "Go to security and get an ID card." I took the form, headed out the door and wondered what in hell I had gotten myself in to. I'm going to be court-martialed before I even get over there. But no worries, I was only there for about ten minutes then walked out the door with a new ID card. Presto - I'm 21. I found out later that this was standard practice. There wasn't a single dude on the fucking base that wasn't at least 21. The folks here figured if you were old enough to go over there and get your ass shot you sure as hell were old enough to buy a beer. And let me tell you, buy beer I did. Mornings started with a vodka milk shake, lunch was with all the beer you could handle and after work we would shut the club down at 2:00 AM, crawl back to our racks and do it all again the next day. The day we were to leave everyone was about half blitzed. We got on the airplane with our seabag and weapon, loaded weapon I might add, and collapsed into the long line of netting that served as our seat. With fuel stops etc. it took 36 hours to get there. Everyone was sober by then but jeez were we a sorry looking bunch. They loaded us on cattle trucks and headed to our base which was about five miles south of DaNang, Vietnam's second largest city. They were still putting the walls up on the office but I found where I belonged. Lt. Rogers told me that one of my duties was to pick up our incoming message traffic each day. It arrived at First Marine Division Headquarters about six miles north of DaNang. I would use the captain's jeep and always took someone with me to ride shotgun. That didn't mean shotgun like we used in the States. Here it meant locked and loaded shotgun. The dude was there to make sure I got my sweet little ass back to base in one piece. We had been in country about three weeks when one day as I was getting ready to go get our message traffic Lt. Rogers said "I'll ride shotgun today. I got to get my ass out of here for a while, I'm going fucking stir crazy." As we cleared the city limits heading north he said "Pull over, I got to piss." I pulled over to the side and shut the jeep off. We both stepped out of the jeep and I walked around and stood about six feet from my boss. I fished my dick out but couldn't help but notice Lt. Rogers unfastened his pants and let them drop to his knees. He lifted his dick and let loose with a stream a stallion would be proud of. I watched intently and my dick promptly inflated to full on boner. The boss was watching and grinned. We finished pissing, got back in the jeep and headed on down the road. This scene repeated itself daily except that each day I stepped a little closer to my boss and he noticed. So today we're pissing and he says "Touch it. It won't bite you but I might. Hell, that's half the fun ain't it. Hell I'd nibble on your dick in a heartbeat. In fact that's a damn good idea. Why don't you kneel down there and see how much of my dick you can get in your mouth?" To say I was surprised doesn't get it. My voice was shaking I was so excited. "Boss, we're right next to the road. Everyone will see what we're doing." Rogers responded "Kid, these guys have seen it all. They don't give a shit what you are doing. You could be sucking a buffalo's dick and all they are going to do is honk and give you a thumbs up. Hey, I never asked you, you like to eat ass?" I answered "I've thought about it but never done it. I think it would probably be hot as hell though. I've been watching and I got to tell you some of these guys have asses any kid would fucking die to have a chance to lick. I'm probably gonna make myself cum but dude I'd give my left nut to be able to smell at hot asshole, just imagine what it's hiding. Oh my god, can you imagine smelling a dude's shithole. Fuck, gonna make myself cum." Lt. Rogers was quiet for a minute or two. "So how about eating a dude's dirty ass, I mean really shitty. Think you could lick a dude's shit off his ass? Fill your mouth with his warm pasty shit? I think that's about the hottest and nastiest thing ever and it fucking turns me on to no end." "You ever done that boss?" "Fuck no but I've been thinking about it and with the right dude I think I'd like to try it. Here's the thing. I think you might be the right dude. Jeez, cumming. His body stiffened as he shot rope after rope of cum on the ground between us. Oh my god, cumming that hard just thinking about tasting your sticky shit man, just thinking about it." I'm still shaking from excitement. "It may take me a while to be able to do that, but if you want to taste my shit I'll shit for you now." I'm still shaking, just praying he will say yes. Lt. Rogers dropped to his knees. "Now or never dude." He pulled me closer and pressed his face against my ass. "Do it man, shit in my mouth." I pushed then turned and watched him as he chewed, swallowed and sucked another bite into his mouth. My legs were shaking and I was cumming hard. "Fuck boss, my balls are as big as yours. I got to try it." Jim stood as I sank to my knees. "Shit in my mouth boss." He did. I filled my mouth with his shit, chewing and swallowing as quickly as I could, wanting to fill my belly. Fuck it was hot. I couldn't even imagine anything this hot a few days earlier and now I couldn't get enough. Wednesdays I would pick up Jim's laundry at the front gate, take it to his hut, hang it up and wait. Jim would come in, take off his pants and tell me to get on my knees then shit in my mouth, jacking his cock as he watched me eat. I knew my life would never be the same. It was on one of these Wednesdays Jim asked me to marry him. "You're married Jim, I don't think your wife would approve." Jim grinned. "Smart ass. I sent her the divorce papers yesterday and told her to pack up and get the fuck out. All she ever wanted me for was my big dick anyway." Shows she's got good taste in dicks. "I'll marry you in a heartbeat. I love you, don't you know that?" About two weeks before we were to rotate back to the States the captain asked that the battalion assemble at 0600. He wanted to speak to us as a group. So we had all the men waiting as the captain stepped to the microphone. "You guys know that we are usually stateside for eight or nine months but this time is different. We'll be lucky to be there two months. So when we get there I want you to check in to make sure we didn't leave anyone behind then take off for three weeks. This is a freebie, won't be charged against your leave time. Okay, that was the bad news. Here's the good stuff. YN2 Brent Carter, step forward." I had no fucking idea what this was about. I got up front, saluted the captain and waited to hear what he had to say. "It is with a great deal of personal pleasure that I promote you to Yeoman First Class. I suspect that if we don't watch our step we will all be working for you next time around. Good job son. Oh, lets not forget, I think I have something else here in my pocket. Yeah, here it is. Let me read it. The President of the United States and the Secretary of the Navy take pleasure in presenting to you the Navy Commendation Medal with the Combat 'V'. He read the rest of the citation which I won't bore you with, then stepped forward and pinned the medal on my chest. Tears streaming down my face I returned to my place in formation. The captain dismissed us and Jim came over and hugged me. As he did he said "You deserve it Brent, you really do. I'm so damned proud of you I could burst." We spent a glorious and decadent three weeks at home then returned to base and promptly shipped out. Our camp this time was six miles north of DaNang on the beach next to a dump. We took a lot of small arms fire from there and occasionally the mortars rained down. It was absolutely rougher this time. We had been in country about six months when a very nasty attack was waged. We lost several men. Unfortunately Jim was one of them. He died in my arms. I went to the Wall in D.C. twelve times but simply could not get close enough to read the names despite how hard I tried. Finally, it was during the gay march on Washington with friends to support me I managed to croak out his name to the attendant there. She directed me to panel 16E. There, on line 34 was his name engraved in the black granite as are the other 58,175 names. These are my heroes. Please don't forget them.