Warning! This story is sexually explicit, if you are not of legal age to read such or are offended by this type of 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 4: The Road March
My second day at Camp Hovey started with an early rise after falling asleep rather quickly. In fact, I hadn't given much thought to beating my meat before drifting off. Maybe it was the jetlag catching up with me after the long flight over from the world. When I awoke I lay on my bunk in a haze, contemplating all that had taken place since departing Oakland. I felt as though I could last a while before needing any further sexual adventure and fulfillment.
I'd gotten a terrific blow job at the steam and cream after arriving at Camp Casey. During my leave time at home prior to shipping out I'd engaged in some wild and meaningful sex, so by the time I arrived at Camp Hovey I was a pretty content camper as far as sexual satisfaction. I really didn't have any urgent desire to go to the ville seeking out a local whore; moreover I was concerned about the diseases carried by the local working girls.
Another worry was the news that the Provost Marshall's office had a secret group of investigators looking for homosexual active within the Bayonet Division. Suddenly, it dawned on me as I lay there in the darkness contemplating my future sexual needs that I should get a head start on the latrine rush, taking a shit and shower before breakfast.
After pulling on a pair of fatigue trousers and shirt before heading off to the communal latrine I grabbed my towel and shaving kit before exiting the hooch. Once I cleared the platoon hooch I noticed there was a chill to the early morning air as well as an offensive odor. I guess in time I'd get used to the smell of Korea. When I arrived at the latrine there was no one in the block building; however, no sooner after arriving and entering the shower than Gary Nelson was standing next to me.
At that point I suspected that Nelson was probably going to be my new best friend during my tour in Korea. I wondered if our early morning meeting was coincidence or had he intentionally followed me to the shower. We rinsed our bodies off not saying a word. I'd discovered very early in my Army life that most guys don't talk to each other when they're naked in latrines. In basic talking was permitted at the lavatories while shaving or brushing teeth, but not in the shower or sitting next to another GI taking a crap.
The American male species has this unwritten code of conduct we use regarding communication and actions in public. For example, holding hands, American men don't hold hands or show affection or emotions in public, whereas women do. Men shake hands when greeting each other, whereas women hug and kiss. Men know when and where to speak to each other and soldiers don't speak to another soldier in the shower.
Yep, we military men are macho men when it comes to our behavior and communication; ain't nothin feminine about us males, especially in the Army. I wouldn't want to arouse any suspicions about my iffy sexuality that might tip off others or the C.I.D. cops. After a quick shower Nelson and I walked back to the hooch in silence where we begin preparing for a new day at Camp Hovey and then go to breakfast.
With morning chow completed the company began drawing weapons and forming up in company formation for the road march. This was the first time I'd gotten to see the entire company together. What a diverse group. There were soldiers from different ethnic groups and different sizes that made up the company. I discovered that my Platoon Leader was a black second lieutenant who was wearing a set of novice jump wings on his fatigues.
The majority of NCOs were Buck Sergeants or Staff Sergeants. There were a couple of older SFCs and Corporals the rest of the company was composed of PFCs and Specialists. The one thing evident was the number of EIBs on the fatigue shirts of Officers and older NCOs.
About half the Non-Commissioned Officers, the Company Commander, First Sergeant and two First Lieutenants all wore EIBs either sewn or pinned on their fatigue shirts. Army regulations forbid wearing both the EIB and the Combat Infantry Badge at the same time. However, on occasions such as this infantry commanders wanted personnel who had earned the EIB to wear it proudly promoting upcoming EIB testing even if they'd earned the CIB. EIB testing was only conducted once a year and for those that passed the test the reward was an award of the Expert Infantry Badge. The first phase of testing was the road march and it was mandatory for all in the company.
The whole company with very few exceptions would participate in the march. Even the non infantry types would participate. Once we all had drawn weapons and protective masks we began forming up with our rifles and putting on our load bearing equipment. Participants would carry their personal weapons. As a rifleman my weapon was the standard issue M-14 rifle. The medics and crew served personnel carried their M1911 45 caliber automatic side arms. Medics had their own skill badge: the Expert Medical Badge.
The road march would qualify medics for their skill badge. Before moving out our Squad Leaders made sure we all had full canteens of water. Once the equipment check was done we slung arms and were given the order to march, heading off on the 12 mile forced road march to qualify for the Expert Infantry Badge.
I learned that the EIB was a big thing with commanders: a competitive thing. Our BC wanted as many of his soldiers as possible to earn the coveted badge and was making any and all resources available to get candidates qualified. We'd been told that the Colonel was very competitive commander and he didn't tolerate any slackers in his battalion. The road march was done carrying all our assigned combat gear including personal weapon, load bearing equipment and protective masks. Total load weighed approximately sixty-five to seventy pounds.
Fully loaded we had to complete the forced march within three hours to become a qualified candidate. I had no problem keeping pace, finishing the march under the three hours time limit. The last leg of the grueling march was passing through the local village of Toko-ri. Wow, what a shit hole, at least that's what I heard the First Sergeant refer to it.
Marching down the dusty road towards Toko-ri I was overcome by an oppressively pungent odor. The stink smelled like a mixture of urine, feces and rotting silage. "What the fuck is that smell?" I questioned to anyone listening, "Kimhi was the response. You'll get used to it."
Kimchi is made using cabbage and beef stock along with spices to create flavors. The Koreans mix it together and let it ferment in pots. I'd gotten a whiff of the same obnoxious odor when we were making the journey north through Uijongbu and Tongduch'on while traveling to Camp Casey. The towns we passed through were ugly and stunk, but damn the smell was ripe today as we entered Toko-ri. My first visit to the ville. As we passed through the village the company was singing out our marching songs as we closed on the gate at Camp Hovey.
The locals lined the street in their colorful clothing cheering us on while others assumed the Korean squat smoking as we passed by. The Military Police manning the gate saluted, welcoming the company back to Camp Hovey. Only a few more yards and the company would be back at our compound.
Many members of the company did not finish the march within the time limit. Some that fell out required medical attention for their feet or exhaustion, needing to be medically evacuated by jeep field ambulance, while others just needed to hydrate and rest before moving on. I feared some were just slackers wanting a free ride back to Camp Hovey. They would discover they should have toughed it out because the First Sergeant had a surprise for them.
When we returned to the company compound The First Sergeant announced that about two thirds of the company qualified under the three hours time limit. For those that qualified we were told there was more to come before going through the actual round robin testing events elements. This is where we would be tested on our knowledge of infantry essential information. Those that didn't qualify on the road march were told there was a makeup march later on.
The Company Commander made it clear everyone in the company would complete the road march within the prescribed time constraints. No doubt future makeup marches would be on Saturdays until all members of the company made it. That's the way things worked in the Army. Finally, the Company Commander reminded us, "All those taking the EIB test needed to be qualified expert with personal or crew served weapon and complete a day and night land navigation course within the prescribed time frame. Also, Army regulations required all candidates to pass a PT test with a score of seventy-five or better before being allowed to advance, competing in the round robin testing."
The first Sergeant spoke up saying, I'll be posting a list on the bulletin board about further details and qualifications needed by each candidate."
After completing the road march within the specified time frame the only other thing I thought I needed to qualify was to do the land nav courses. I didn't think that would be too difficult as I'd done well on the course in AIT.
The First Sergeant's final announcement, "For anyone truly interested in earning the EIB the BC has put out a directive that there'll be study courses set up and available at night for all interested personnel; furthermore, make events will be conducted on weekends prior to the division testing event. There'll be a sign-up sheet in the orderly room for those interested in classes," then he gave the welcome command, "Fall out!"
With the dismissal order given the company broke up. A lot of the soldiers lit up as they began shuffling off towards the arms room. I'd refrained thus far in life from acquiring the tobacco habit and quickly discovered that Nelson was a nonsmoker too. The company began lining up in front of the arms room to turn in our weapons and protective masks. With Nelson standing behind me he started a conversation, "So, Randy, you gonna try for the EIB?"
"I think I'll give it a try; besides, it'll look neat on my chest along with my jump wings," I said with a big grin.
"I think I'll try too. Maybe we can buddy up and study together," Nelson replied confidently.
"Sounds good to me."
Top had given the company the rest of the day off to clean our gear and recuperate from the road march. After making turn-ins at the arms room, cleaning putting our gear away we both decided that another shower was in order to get the road dust off and soften the pain. So, we made a second trip to the latrine.
We hung our towels up and proceed to get undressed. Once in the shower room Nelson and I stood nude across from each other. The shower stall had shower heads on both walls. We were facing each other letting the warm water rain down on our backs, relieving some of the soreness and tensions in our bodies from the road march. I couldn't help but notice Nelson's dick: pretty respectable looking thing. In fact, it was a damn fine piece of meat dangling about five or six inches limp over his adequate size scrotal sac that was surrounded by a fluffy bush. The fuckstick had a most prominent pink knob on it with a distinguishing crimson coronal band.
I was secretly wondering as I stood under the warm water whether Nelson was a grower or shower, in essence how big did his penis grow when erect. If the two of us had met back in the world I would've been encouraged to get to know Nelson's cock on a more intimate level. Yes, I would've liked to explore his manhood, but in the Army, in Korea where rumor had it that there was an ongoing witch hunt for cock suckers and butt fuckers that wasn't going to happen. I began to feel a twinge of arousal in my crotch area and decided to turn around facing the wall before someone noticed my cock growing. After a few more minutes I decided it was time to exit the shower. On the way back to the hooch Nelson and I walked in awkward silence. I sensed he wanted to say something about our meeting in the shower as did I.
We'd broken the ice showering openly in front of each other. There was nothing to hide between us we'd seen each other naked, in our natural state. We both had well-defined athletic bodies and respectable sexual equipment. I felt comfortable around Nelson and sensed he was going to be my new best buddy while in Korea. I didn't have reason to suspect he was an undercover C.I.D. type. I felt he was just a naïve kid from Kentucky who in all probability was a virgin from the way he talked and acted. Whatever he was or wasn't we had many months to cultivate our new found friendship before returning to the world.
Chapter 5: Slicky Boys and Sid Fears
As Nelson and I approached the platoon hooch two Korean males were exiting the front entrance to the Q-hut with boots in their hands and arms full of fatigues. I started to break for them, thinking them to be thieves. Nelson grabbed me by the arm restraining saying, "Those are house boy's not slicky boys."
"House boys? Slicky boys?"
"Yeah, they're Korean locals who work on base doing domestic chores for GIs. Slicky boys are young Korean thieves. Ya gotta watch out for them. They get into to the Army compounds and steal anything that isn't nailed down. Also watch out for them when you're in the ville."
"Damn, something else to watch out for," I replied.
Gary said to me, "Rumor has it Slicky Boys are so good they can steal a Duce and half while you're drivin it. They stole a piano from and officers club while a bunch of offices were in the place drinking."
"Wow! So, these guys are good. Put American thieves to shame. I'll remember that. So, how do I tell the good Koreans from the bad ones?"
"I've been told you'll get to know over time. I don't know yet," Gary said.
"So now I got to figure out who's a good Korean and a bad Korean as well as try to figure out who are C.I.D. undercover cops," I replied.
"You're forgetting the GI thieves. Hell we got thieves right here in the company and battalion. Every once in a while the MPs are called and they are carted off to Casey," Gary said.
"Oh shit! I better watch my shit and keep it secure."
"Yep. By the way, if ya want to hire a house now would be a good time to talk to them and set up a service. Actually only NCOs and officer are supposed to have house boys, but Top turns his head. We all chip in five dollars a month for them to keep the hooch clean, but for personal services they want more money," Nelson explained.
"Do you have them do stuff for you?" I asked, "How much more a month?"
"No, can't afford it on PFC's pay. The price depends upon what you want them to do for you. I use Quartermaster laundry, shine my own boots and make my own bunk up."
I replied, "I think I'll wait a while."
We ducked inside the hooch where other members of Second Platoon were lounging around on the bunks talking, smoking and listening to music. A few were playing cards. Both of us flopped down on our bunks to rest up before chow. Other platoon and squad members were wandering in and out of the hooch till finally we were the only two left.
As we lay in our bunks across from each other I couldn't get my new best buddy's naked body out of my head. Finally, I dismissed the thought drifting off to sleep. Over the next few days Nelson and I shared our history only to discover that we lived about fifty miles from each other. My home was Evansville, Indiana, and Nelson came from a small farming community across the river in Utica, Kentucky. We both shared the same interests in music, films and cars.
Before I knew it the weekend had arrived. On Saturday after morning inspection Gary and I attended a two hours classroom pre land navigation class. The NCO that taught the course we discovered had run a similar course at Fort Benning and did a damn fine job presenting. We learned that the upcoming week would be the first land nav course to qualify. He urged the dozen or so in attendance to pay close attention to his class and pass the course on the first time out. By the time we returned to the hooch it was empty. Other platoon members were either at the EM club or in the ville, so Gary and I headed to the latrine to shower as we'd done a few times before since my arrival in the company.
Once again we stood across from each other letting the warm water run down our bodies and once again my eyes were drawn to Gary's manhood. This time it appeared a little bigger than on previous occasions. One of these days I'm gonna walk in and catch him flogging his pole I thought to myself. My dick began growing, so I turned facing the wall. We finished showering, got dressed and left the block building walking back to the hooch.
Gary broke the silence on the trek back saying, "There ain't no need to hide it, Randy. We all get hard ons."
I responded, "What do you mean. I wasn't trying to hide anything. From what I was seeing it looked as though you were gettin hard in there; besides, I just didn't want to get caught by Sid or have some one else walking in on us seeing me starting to get all boned up."
"As long as we aren't doing anything like manipulating our cocks or they were fully hard there's really nothing the Sid assholes can do. Besides, a hard on is a natural thing."
"Yeah I know that," I replied, thinking this kid from Kentucky was pretty smart.
"In case you're curious mine grows to a fraction over eight inches when it's all boned up. What about you?" Nelson questioned.
I replied stretching the truth a little, "Almost seven inches."
"Not bad," Nelson responded, "Make some young Jo-san down in the ville happy.
"Jo-san?"
"A Jo-san is a young Korean girl who'll make you happy. Kinda like a Yo-Bo. Most Jo-sans have a Ma-san who is kinda like a madam or pimp."
"I guess some things just don't change no matter where we are on the world," I replied with a smile and a chuckle.
"Yep."
"Hey you wanta go with me?" I asked.
"Where?"
"I thought I'd take a walk down to Cougar Company to see of I can locate Danny, my buddy from jump school. Been here almost a week and haven't seen or heard from him. You want to go with me?"
"Sure, nothin else ta do."
We pulled on our uniforms and made our way down the road to Cougar Company in search of Danny Dickman.
[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 and others 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. The second Korean War from 1966 to 1969 was overshadowed by the Vietnam War. For many years American and ROK soldiers were not recognized for their bravery and hardships endured guarding against aggression from the north. Since 1966 the soldiers guarding the DMZ and the free people of South Korea sit on a powder keg waiting for the short fuse to be ignited by unstable leadership in the north. Most people in America don't have any understanding of the fragile situation in Korea.
Although this story is fictional it may be based on certain real places, 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've 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'll refrain from posting future chapters until I get some positive feedback on the story.
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.]