Vietnam Warriors Reunite
The story told herein is of course fictional. Although fictional, the story maybe based on certain facts; however, to protect the innocent the names, dates and places have been changed. The story may contain descriptions of encounters among consenting adults. The story may not be reproduced without express permission of the author.
Preamble: The basic setting is Long Beach, California during 1960s and thereafter. The story follows major character's lives through experiences in Vietnam and thereafter; it also, occasionally will recall youthful years of innocence, sexual exploration and high school graduation.
Once Vietnam War vets returned to the world they faced many obstacles, perceived or real, that stood in their way hindering achievement of goals. Some veterans overcame those obstacles and others did not. To the veterans who chose to end their lives because they could not cope with stressors, I'm sorry for you and your family's unneeded loss. A government that will send warriors to war and then let those veterans down after they return from the battlefield shame on them.
After wars those who fought want to return home and experience the sanity of normal life. They want to put the memory and pain of war behind them and get on with life. Many could not do that for one reason or the other while others did. The system failed many of them in the beginning, but over the years with another war in the spotlight things began to get better.
Veterans who return from war want to focus on getting decent productive well-paying jobs, benefits guaranteed them, or maybe just stay in the military. Some with alternative lifestyles want acceptance. Returning warriors had to deal with not achieving this while tolerating antiwar protestors, employers and many times professors who did not perceive them to be college material.
Many vets perceived the academic deck stacked against them for serving the country. To those professors who treated veterans less than honorably when they came home, shame on you, because it is for a warrior's service that you can exercise freedom speech at universities, public and private.
By 1968 the Civil Rights Movement and Vietnam War were in high gear as were protestors. By 1968 the war took many thousand precious young American lives and grievously wounded many more. Racial tension began to peak in Vietnam and at home. AIDS/HIV not yet epidemic in America; therefore, many did not practice safe sex.
Prior to 1970 much of the world did not accept same-sex sexuality between consenting adults. During the 1960 gays were forced to remain in the shadows, closeted, especially in the military, if they wanted their careers to flourish and succeed. Gay men were simply referred to inoffensively by many in and out of the gay community as homosexual or queer; however, using the word faggot constituted extremely offensive language by the homosexual community.
Openness regarding one's sexuality was not in vogue. Cannabis and other illegal narcotic chemicals began replacing alcohol as the substance of choice to numb the pain of emotional stress as well as physical pain. Understandable music lyrics still ruled the airwaves and people attended church to seek forgiveness and cleanse their daily sins. But more than anything veteran's inner emotional wounds festered and long-term side effects from chemicals used in Vietnam went unrecognized for far too long and plagued veterans then and continue today.
A simpler time prior to computers, cell phones, Internet and social media; a time of face to face interaction.
Boomer and Mark Reunite
Mark awoke screaming into his pillow. He pushed his face into pillow to muffle the sound. His body soaked in sweat and his heart pounding in his chest from the never-ending effects of the nightmare. He sat straight up in bed tears streaming down his cheeks, nose running and drool dripping from his mouth, while he yelled obscenities at anything and everything. He then beat his fists into the pillow to a point of exhaustion. Almost a year had passed since the death of his best friend killed in Vietnam. He sought solace in music however try as he might he couldn't bury his feelings and images of his friend.
A Viet Cong RPG blew the Huey helicopter out of the sky over Tay Ninh, killing Lieutenant Charming, Mark's closest friend in Vietnam. The lieutenant, his team and the crew all crashed and burned on that chopper. Although many months had come and gone since the fiery crash Mark still experienced frenzied nightmares about the incident.
The former soldier drug his raggedy-ass out of bed, stumbled into his bathroom and then into the shower. In the shower Mark let lukewarm water rain down upon him attempting to numb the memory that haunted him. Mark always wondered what the men thought as the rocket exploded sending all them to their fiery deaths in the flaming helicopter plummeting to earth. Did they have a few seconds to pray? Ask God for forgiveness? Did they die instantaneously? These questions and more plagued Mark all these months. After the shower Mark stood shivering on the mat in the bathroom thinking how lucky he'd been during his tour in Vietnam.
Mark staggered into the kitchen, the sun not up yet, he banged around making coffee. He'd never been a coffee drinker prior to the Army, but since, he consumed many cups per day. Mark started each day with cups of black coffee and ended each day with coffee.
Since he returned to the world he'd become something of a coffee connoisseur. He kept a log of amounts and types of beans for each pot he brewed. He counted different coffee beans and ground the beans mixing them trying to come up with the perfect blend. Many people drink warm milk to help them sleep; instead, Mark chose to drink black coffee, because he didn't want to sleep. If he allowed sleep the inner demons that haunted him visited him.
After enjoying a couple cups of Joe, listening to his stereo, meditating, waiting for the sun to rise Mark decided he needed another shower. This time a jack-off shower. Mark spent more time than usual jacking off since he returned to the world: his way to de-stress. Since Mark returned to the world he'd become addicted to masturbation. With no steady girlfriend or boyfriend to spend lonely nights, only meaningless one-night stands or limited sexual trysts that never seemed to work out. He wanted a person next to him of a night with whom he could face the future.
The person he planned to spend the rest of his life with no longer in the picture: he'd crashed and burned in Vietnam months prior. Out of the shower the sun began to crest on a new day in Long Beach, California. Mark dressed took his bicycle out the door to begin his journey towards the pancake house for breakfast. He'd discovered the restaurant offered an early bird promotional breakfast of two eggs, two pieces of bacon, two hotcakes and all the coffee one could drink for a dollar and ninety-nine cents. He couldn't cook for that price. The restaurant had become his hangout.
As Mark rode towards his morning destination he formulated a mental itinerary for the day and the coming weekend. After breakfast he had personal business that needed attention before his afternoon class at the university. He also had to make a stop at his bank around noon to take care of banking business. With his last personal chore behind him he rode his bicycle towards the bank.
"Wow!" Exclaimed Mark as he finished chaining and locking his bike. His old friend from high school Boomer stood in front of the bank at the corner of 7th and Bellflower that sunny Thursday morning looking a little confused. The taller strawberry blonde man wearing surfer shorts, T-shirt and sneaks thrust his hand out to his old buddy. "How the hell you doin Boomer?"
Although haggard the Army paratrooper wore his uniform with pride, something many troubled veterans no longer did at the time. He appeared distinguished wearing bloused spit shined jump boots along with a chest full of valorous decorations and medals. Mark thought, Boomer wore his uniform with more pride than he ever did during his Army enlistment. Of course, he did, a member of the Army's elite--A Paratrooper.
Overjoyed Mark pumped his friend's hand. His buddy appeared older than his 21 years. Trauma of war had eaten up the aura of charm from Boomer's adolescent days. He stood stolid in front of the bank displaying a state of aloofness holding his friend's hand.
"Been a while Mark," came an emotionless reply.
The Army Staff Sergeant appeared to be more hardened and devoid of soul, speaking with flat affect. Even tough Boomer presented as a larger-than-life character the paratrooper struck his friend as gaunt, pale and vacant appearing. He didn't look as though he'd slept or eaten a decent meal in days. The warrior appeared haunted by the past. Boomer's face, eyes, facial expression all changed as well as tone of his voice since Mark had seen him last.
All of that conveyed depression of a battle-weary soldier. No longer present, the soft pink pleasing face Mark knew from years past; Boomer's baby face appearance of yesteryear now raw-boned with dark circles under his eyes and noticeable purplish scars on his face. No more mischievous twinkle to those alluring green eyes--they appeared vacant.
After the two exchanged noonish greetings in front of the bank the former friends broke their handshake standing in awkward silence for a few seconds, studying each other, searching for precise words to continue the conversation. Boomer furtively eyed two hard nubs protruding from beneath the fabric of Mark's cream yellow color short sleeve Tee, displaying the graphic of a surfer hanging ten on a background ocean wave.
In the meantime, Mark's memory recalled Boomer's perfect penis whether erect or flaccid: a ten on a scale of one to ten. Evidence of moisture began to well up in Mark's eyes as the two best friends broke their special handshake. After the loss of Mark's closest friend in Vietnam he secretly thanked God for allowing his best buddy to make it back to the world alive.
Boomer spoke, "I don't hear the name Boomer much any longer. I pretty much go by Sergeant Black or my given name Benjamin now."
"Really." Hearing that, Mark suspected that Boomer may have changed and become a straitlaced soldier boy and not the sexual adventurer of yesteryear. "Boomer is all I ever heard you called growing up. Okay if I still call you that?"
"Sure. I'd like that."
"When did you get back to the world and what you been up to man?"
"I split the Nam maybe three four days ago, not sure, lost track of time. Flew back to the world, got a flight from Fort Lewis to LAX, my plane landed this morning, taxi took me to my hotel, just got some money from my bank account, and now here I am in Long Beach talkin to you buddy."
"Yes, you are," Mark said. "Why you stayin at a hotel? Why not your folks house?"
"Dunno. I'm on leave for next couple weeks before I report into my gaining unit at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Don't know what I'm doing yet," Boomer said, "Need to get my shit together before I call or meet my folks."
"You really need to do that. Mom and dad say they talk about you all the time and worry about you too. They're so proud."
"Like I said just got home. Need a drink or two to wash away the nasty taste of the Nam before I do anything."
"Ready to become a civilian?" Mark asked.
"I still got time left on my enlistment before I can think about becoming a civilian, or what I wanna do with my future. You?"
Thrilled to see his former best bud, Mark began to explain his life since he returned to the world. "After Vietnam I got an early release from active Army to go to college as long as I signed into the Army Reserves. I'm workin part-time for City Light and Power, thanks to my dad for helpin me get the job and the Army for the job trainin. Plus, I attend Cal State Long Beach full-time, compliments the GI Bill."
"I didn't get no special job trainin in the Army...cept killin people." The handsome paratrooper remembered befriending Mark Hunter years prior; in fact, they almost didn't become friends upon first meeting, but ended up best buds afterwards and throughout high school. Secretly, Mark wondered if Boomer remembered much about those secret sexual shenanigans from their teenage years.
Standing in front of the bank both men began experiencing euphoria, sensing butterflies, wetness in the armpits, dry mouth, rapid heartbeat, and unbeknownst to the other hidden sexual arousal. Mark's nipples erect and protruding from beneath his T-shirt caused Boomer's hidden penis to become engorged with blood, causing it to swell inside his briefs. The men's subconscious minds secretly began reliving visions of the sexual escapades from their teenage years.
After they broke their handshake the tip of Mark's middle finger furtively scratched the palm of Boomer's hand, sending shivers of anxiety along with sensations of sensuality through both men's bodies. A secret old teenage handshake Boomer acknowledged with a wry smile and slight lick of the lips.
The smile and lick of the lips signaled Mark that Boomer had not forgotten the meaningful handshake from years prior. Back then a childish come-hither signal secretly questioning one's sexuality: ready to get down and dirty for some sexual shenanigans. That secret handshake and seeing Boomer's penis the first time is what Mark remembered about his friend when they met years prior, but he would not understand the full meaning of the handshake until later.
Although the two hadn't seen each other since they graduated from Basic Training at Fort Ord, California in 1966 they now stood before each on the street in Long Beach, California--the world. Unbeknownst to the other each filled with wanton desire to engage the other in sexual shenanigans again.
Standing on the sidewalk talking to each other Mark began to remember how Boomer initiated their first sexual contact using the homo handshake which within hours led to a mutual jack off session. After that initial session the two teens continued to sexually satisfy each other even though both dated girls until their last summer sexual encounter after graduating high school and joining the Army. One hell of a weekend that turned out to be, Mark thought.
"You got time for a drink buddy? Boomer asked. "I sure as hell need one or two maybe four or five ta calm me. There's a bar I passed down the street. I need some booze buddy."
Bringing Mark's mind back to present he said, "Wish I could but I've gotta to catch my Thursday afternoon class at the university."
"Understand."
"You wanna go with? Mark asked. "I'll introduce you to my friends."
"Nah. Not much on meetin new people. Maybe another time...I need a drink, now."
"Let's get together tonight for dinner and drinks, catch up on old times," Mark said. "In the meantime, please call your folks."
"I will," Boomer said. "Where and when you wanna meet up?"
"Basil's Bar and Restaurant at seven, I'll make reservations," Mark said. "You remember where it's located, right?"
"Sure."
"Oh, wear your uniform."
"Don't have anything else to wear," the paratrooper replied.
Although Mark felt good about running into his former best friend he worried about Boomer's state of mind and what he considered excess drinking. Mark knew alcohol numbed the pain of war. The meeting reignited deep-seated lustful feelings for his friend. Mark thought about what the chances might be for the two to rekindle some sexual activity later-on--just to de-stress of course.
Mark felt more blood rushing to his penis. "Bring your wife or girlfriend and don't go get drunk before dinner, okay buddy." Mark said hopefully to discover whether his old friend might have a female partner or be single.
"Just me," Boomer said. "No excess baggage for this trooper."
"Same here, so just the two of us. We'll make a hell of a night of it buddy."
Mark got the answer for which he'd been searching. No excess baggage, a military term used by old timers to identify dependents. Many older NCOs didn't see the need for young soldiers to be encumbered by dependents. They thought dependents interfered with training and combat operations. Boomer, a single guy, hopefully might be ready to play after dinner. The two men broke off their conversation shaking hands again to seal the deal; however, this time Boomer scratched Mark's palm. Mark took the signal as a positive for an upcoming night of sexual shenanigans.
Before the two separated they stole furtive glances at the other's crotches trying to detect any sign of bulging. As they walked away Mark's mind began revving up thinking about what might take place later-on that evening. After Mark took care of some personal business he decided to blow off the scheduled class for the afternoon and ride back to his apartment, take a nap and think about things before getting ready for dinner.