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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: Soldier4.txt
Authors name: Fredrick T. (C) 1997
Story Title : An Adventure of Military Madness
PART 4 OF 9
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The distribution of this series is restricted to adult viewing only. This
9 part series contains sexual situations and is not suitable for minors.
--------------------- from Kristen's collection --------------------------
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With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S. Constitution
*** PROLONG ***
This is a military story. No, it is not a war story. It is the story of
the men and women who fought past battles. It is also the story of the men
and women who will be asked to fight future battles and while the shame caused
by the "Tailhook" scandal still haunts the proud history of this nation's
warriors, let us not forget where we would be without them. Most of the
characters portrayed here are military personnel or their spouses and
children. All of them are warriors to some extent and give up a little of
their everyday freedom in order for you to get your full share. Violent death
does not distinguish between the barbarian or the native savage conquering new
territory, the medieval knight fighting for the word of God, or the
politically correct warrior among us and for some war never ends.
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***** C H A P T E R F O U R *****
It was a little after seven-thirty when Willy Tamarack, aka "Malibu,"
arrived at Gary's. Gary was sitting out on the patio watching the sunset when
the door bell rang. Gary got Willy a beer and they both wandered out to the
patio.
"Jesus, you've got quite a view here, Wildman. The view alone ought to
get you enough pussy to last a life time."
Gary thought for a moment and then said, "Is there such a thing as 'enough
pussy'?" Both he and Malibu laughed until it hurt.
Willy wasted no time pulling out a baggie of marijuana and soon had a
joint rolled and going. Gary and Willy passed it back and forth. Malibu told
Gary that he grew his own in one of those growing contraptions that you find
in men's magazines. He's been doing it for three years now and never runs
out. Gary offers to pay but Willy refuses, saying that he has enough to last
a life time stored in his freezer. He laughs about camouflaging them as
packages of broccoli. Soon they are both stoned, lost in their own thoughts.
Gary is back in California - mid-sixties - remembering the first time he got
stoned - with his brother. His brother never left the sixties, opening a head
shop in the early seventies when Gary was in Nam. Gary used to send him
porcelain elephants and other trinkets from the "War Zone" as his brother
liked to call it. He laughs thinking how well they used to sell. His brother
was always trying to get Gary to send more.
Willy leaves soon after they finish smoking and Gary wandered back out on
the patio, just goofing. Malibu left him a four finger lid of his potent
weed. He hadn't been stoned in a long time and was some what scared of the
random drug testing that the service conducted. Well, he'd worry about that
when the time came. Maybe the young girls he spied a couple of days ago would
get a whiff of it and come begging him for some ? Fat chance. Jesus he had
to stop day dreaming about them. He better hook up with some pussy soon -
that's about all he could think of lately. He turned in early as this staff
work really tired you out, yea, right ? The squadrons participating in the
next Red Flag arrived this weekend and the base would be a hubbub of activity.
Gary was kind of looking forward to the exercise as this paperwork shit was
just that - shit.
All Friday was spent gearing up for the exercise. In the morning, Major
Cahill attended meeting after meeting. Each of them appeared endless and it
was lunch time before Gary was able to talk to Lieutenant Colonel Jackson
about leaving a little early to watch his son's football game. LTC Jackson
wasn't too hot on the idea but let Gary make the decision, you know, if he had
his "shit" together for the exercise that started Monday. Gary assured him he
did and told him that he would be leaving about two-thirty. The early
afternoon dragged by.
Gary had some difficulty finding the high school where the game was to be
played and didn't arrive until the first quarter was already over. Wanda was
not hard to find. She was by far the best looking woman in the stands.
Still, after all these years, Wanda took Gary's breath away. Tall, with her
dark hair and well built body; he could see several of the fathers casting
glances her way. Gary made his way up the bleachers and called her name when
he was several rows away.
Wanda got up and met Gary at the isle and they embraced. She smelled
wonderful. "What's up with the uniform, major ?" She asked.
"I've got an asshole for a boss and I'm fighting back." Gary returned,
"He's about three years my junior, a zoomie and a lieutenant colonel. He
didn't quite make the war and I imagine all he wears are peace time ribbons,
so, I guess you could say I'm making a statement."
"Dad heard that you made quite a statement while you were up at Hill, too.
Have a hard time adjusting to the peace time air force or just the state side
air force ?" She laughed and continued. "Is that why you got passed over ?"
Gary took the good natured ribbing as it was intended. "You could say
that. After all those years in the Pacific it was hard to keep a straight
face when some of these state side warriors told you to get psyched up for an
exercise. But no, the pass over came before my little problem at Hill. What
did your father hear about it ?"
"Oh ! Just that you were fucking the pants off some lieutenant's wife and
probably should have been court martialled but had about a zillion friends
come to your defense. He said that you were very lucky."
Gary laughed and told her that his goose would have been cooked if the
lieutenant, in question, hadn't been fucking the pants off just about every
airman in the squadron. They sat and Wanda pointed out their son. He was the
starting defensive back on the Bishop Gorman Gaels Freshman Football Team.
Gary hadn't been much of a joiner in high school; preferring to surf instead.
He had also attended the "boy's school" in Colorado, as he called it.
Unfortunately he had finished almost last in his class, a "back bencher" on
graduation day. Pilot training, though, was a different story. Gary finished
well up in his class and was totally stoked that he got his first choice in
assignments - a Dragonfly - direct to South East Asia.
They sat in silence watching the rest of the second quarter. During half
time they chatted politely about this and that. Wanda told him that Al had
made plans for the evening and wondered if Gary could make it for lunch the
following day. Gary asked if the two of them could go out this evening but
Wanda didn't think that she could keep up with Gary. Gary didn't push it and
told her that he would be over for lunch the following day. The second half
started and Gary watched as the Gaels got their asses kicked by one of the
public high schools. Al played well and was very typically a teenage boy
after the game when Gary and Wanda went to talk with him. He asked his dad if
it was ok if he attended the dance this evening instead of going out with the
two of them. He even mentioned that maybe they could go out together. Gary
laughed and told him that Wanda had invited him to lunch on Saturday and that
he would see him then.
Gary arrived home about six, popped a top and fixed himself some dinner.
His household goods had arrived during the noon hour and Gary had rushed home
to let the movers in. The boxes were littered about the front room. The
furniture, mostly rattan stuff that he'd had in the Philippines, was strewn
about the house in no particular order. His first order of business would be
to set up the stereo and get some tunes going. He was into his third or forth
beer by the time the stereo was set up. He put some Neil Young on the CD
player and started unpacking boxes. It was a little after midnight before he
had the house in a semblance of order. He rolled a joint, got pleasantly
stoned and then retired for the evening.
Saturday morning was spent moving furniture from here to there and running
a couple of loads of wash. He was really looking forward to seeing Al and his
mother again. He felt guilty about not being able to see his son for all
these years and now that he was stationed in the same town, was planning on
making it up to him. It was just after noon when he parked in front of
Wanda's house. She had just moved to a new home in the fashionable Green
Valley area. The house was tastefully furnished; whether that had to do with
the money Gary religiously sent her every month or to her own success was
anyone's guess. Gary suspected that she did very well. She was now a full
professor in English literature at UNLV.
Al couldn't keep quiet this afternoon; asking Gary all kinds of questions
about his life in the air force. He especially wanted to know how Gary had
got all those medals he was wearing yesterday. As Gary told the story of Loc
Nihn, Wanda broke in several times to add things that Gary forgot or left out
as she had heard the story hundreds of times. As Wanda added this or that,
Gary got very quiet and reminisced about that night - the night he often
dreamed about - the night that "Peaches " bought the farm. His thoughts were
interrupted.....
"Hey ! Dad, how'd you get the name "Wildman ?" Al asked.
Gary hesitated. He very rarely talked about that time in his life. He
was one of the few pilots in the air force who had kept the same nickname
throughout an entire career. "Well, son..........
### Spring 1972 ###
He had just landed. In the confusion of the Spring offensive, no one
noticed that Gary helped his crew chief turn the aircraft, load the nape and
rearm the gun. He was taxiing in under twenty minutes. Once again, in the
confusion, no one noticed a lone Dragonfly take off in the stream of aircraft
that were departing the base to support the defense of South Vietnam, Loc
Ninh, in particular. Lieutenant Cahill arrived over Loc Ninh without a
wingman but flew like twenty aircraft. The same FAC was on station and Gary
used the same call sign that he had earlier. He flew over the crash site a
thousand times. The wreckage was clearly visible, still smoldering in the
night. After ascertaining that "Peaches" was indeed gone for good he flew
with a vengeance dropping his napalm as accurately as could be, from very low
level. He made multiple passes over the targets that the FAC designated.
Several times he was called on the radio by his squadron mates. He refused to
answer their queries and only headed home when he was out of napalm, bullets
and gas.
Upon landing he was met by the squadron commander. After a thorough
tongue lashing, Gary begged to be allowed to fly again that night. Another
wingman was hustled out to the alert pad and Gary took off again to do battle
in the skies over Loc Ninh. Once again, due to the fog of war, no one
realized that Lieutenant Cahill flew all night long. The sun was rising when
Gary touched down for the last time. Once again he was met by the squadron
commander. As it turned out Gary had flown five sorties, totaling almost ten
hours of flying time during the night, well over the maximum number of sorties
and hours allowed during a twenty-four hour period. The last two sorties had
been flown with a battle damaged aircraft. Gary had taken some small arms
through the belly of the aircraft on one of his earlier sorties. No one had
noticed and Gary hadn't bothered to report it. The holes in belly were hardly
the size of his little finger. One of the rounds had nicked his thigh on it's
way through the cockpit. That's the only reason he knew he'd been hit. He
had a hole in his flight suit and a scratch on his thigh.
This time the squadron commander was not so kind. When the battle damage
was brought to his attention he decided that Gary should spend a few days
cooling his heels as the duty officer. Gary didn't care as all the anger
involved with "Peaches'" death had been worked out of his system. As they
were leaving the revetment, a procession of official vehicles drove up the
tarmac. The lead vehicle was flying the flag of the Republic of Vietnam and
had a three star license plate. The squadron commander and Gary came to
attention and saluted the car. The procession stopped right in front of the
revetment. A full colonel of the Vietnamese Air Force rushed around the
vehicle and opened the door. From the rear vehicles, several soldiers armed
with M-16's rushed forward toward the lead car. Lieutenant General Nuyan
Trahn stepped from the rear of the lead vehicle. He returned the salute and
turned to his aide.
The colonel started speaking immediately, "Our forces have reported that
one of your airplanes was shot down over Loc Ninh earlier this evening.
General Trahn wishes to pay his respects." His English was excellent with
just trace of a French accent. "We have also heard that there is another of
your airplanes, call sign...Hawk 7...who has flown most courageously in the
defense of our country. The General would like to meet the pilot and thank
him personally for his brave combat this evening. Our ground troops in the
vicinity of Loc Ninh report that this man is fearless. Is this pilot
available to meet General Trahn ?"
The squadron commander looked at Lieutenant Cahill and asked, "Isn't that
the call sign you were using tonight, Lieutenant ?"
Gary just nodded his head. The Vietnamese colonel spoke to General Trahn.
The General turned toward Gary and continued to talk to his aide. The colonel
turned and barked an order to the driver, who hustled up to the General with a
small box. The colonel turned toward the squadron commander and continued.
"General Trahn wishes to present the Lieutenant with a token of
appreciation from the Republic of Vietnam." General Trahn had stepped forward
toward Gary while taking a medal from the box. He leaned forward and pinned
the medal to Gary's flight suit. The General stepped back and saluted. Gary
returned the salute as the General was talking to his aide. They both
laughed.
By now there was quite a crowd of enlisted men and a few other pilots
standing behind the squadron commander and Gary. "The General says that this
Lieutenant flies his airplane like a "Wildman" and that if we had more like
him we would drive the NVA back to their side of the DMZ." With that they all
got back into their vehicles and sped off down the ramp. Gary did spend the
next several days behind the duty desk but the nickname stuck. He'd been
"Wildman" ever since..........
As Gary drove home he reflected on the great time he had with Wanda and
Al. He was honestly looking forward to seeing them again. He had invited Al
over to spend some time with him but Al was hesitant because of his school and
football schedule. Gary said that maybe they could make a weekend of it
sometime. Al thought that would be pretty cool and they promised to keep in
touch. He was also hoping to see Wanda again. Actually he was trying to
figure his chances of getting in her pants. She had looked really great again
today. Arriving home, he noticed that he had received his first message on
the answering machine.
"Hey ! "Wildman !" It's Knob, you horny bastard. What the fuck are you
doing away from home on a Saturday afternoon ? Probably fucking the shit out
of some bimbo - I hope....Ha ! Ha ! Just arrived for the Flag exercise.
Staying on base at the Q. If you're home before six give me a call and we'll
go out, tell each other lies and try to scare up some women. You been here
long enough to know where the hot chicks hang out, right ?! If you can't make
it, I'll see you next week sometime. Don't do anything that I wouldn't do !!
Ha ! Ha !"
Gary glanced at his watch. It was a little after seven. He called the
base anyway and listened to Knob's phone ring and ring and ring. Shit, why
the fuck did he stay at Wanda's so long. If he hadn't hung around her place;
imagining he was getting some where, he'd be down town with Knob "runnin' the
ville." Again he rolled a joint and headed out to the patio to smoke it. The
strip was just coming to life - the lights starting to twinkle. In a short
while Gary was stoned as hell and wandered back to his bedroom - another early
night. He'd never get any pussy this way.
It had only been a couple of months since he'd seen "Knob." Captain
"Knob" was stationed at Hill with Gary. He was also fucking around with a
married woman, a squadron commander's wife. "Wildman" and his "married woman"
had partied with them a couple of times. Boy, were those nights to remember.
Knob wasn't involved at the time "Wildman" was caught; but he was instrumental
in getting "public" opinion behind Gary. It seems like he notified everyone
in the world that the lieutenant, whose wife Gary was boffing, was fucking
just about every airman in the wing at the time. "So what was the big
deal ??" Knob kept asking.
Gary remembered the first time he met Knob. It was in the Philippines.
Captain Knob was a lieutenant in one of the squadrons down from the "Kun" for
Cope Thunder. Knob had been in the right place at the right time during one
of the Cope Thunder missions and had shot down three F-15s and got them all on
video tape. At the debrief, the tape was played and a lot of F-15 drivers
were a little upset. Knob never partied without his guitar and that night in
Angeles City, he sang songs about the "twin-tailed sissies" and how they were
so big that anyone could knock them from the sky. Some of the "Eagle" drivers
took offense and a fight broke out. Gary just happened to be in the same bar,
checking out the TDY crowd. When the air police were called, Gary grabbed
Knob and spirited him out the back of the bar and through the alley ways of
Angeles city to a small bar he frequented. Gary and Knob spent the rest of
the evening getting to know each other and rolling around in the hay with two
lovely Filipina ladies. The friendship continued to grow when they had been
stationed at Hill together in the late '80's. He was looking forward to
seeing Knob again, Knob reminded him of better times. He laughed at the time
they were TDY in Europe together. Gary was on the wing staff at Hill and was
sent to supervise, yea, right..........
continued in part 5...