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Gomer Pyle - MIA
by CarterUSMC (carterusmc@aol.com)

***

Did you ever wonder what Gomer Pyle USMC was doing 
hanging out on that Marine Corps base all those years 
back in the sixties when the young men of his 
generation were fighting and dying in Vietnam? Did you 
ever wonder what would have happened if he had been 
sent to Vietnam? Maybe something like this. (MF, 
military, preg, parody)

***

Not for the first time in his life, and probably not 
for the last, Sergeant Vincent Carter USMC cursed the 
day he had ever met Gomer Pyle. Torrents of rain poured 
over his helmet and poncho as he squatted hiding just 
off the main trail in the dense jungle foliage. His M-
16 rifle was soaked now and therefore only slightly 
worse than useless. The VC that had ambushed his squad 
were probably still looking for him. He hadn't heard 
any firing for some time and had no idea what had 
happened to his men.

Pyle was the whole reason he was here, the reason he 
was in 'Nam and the reason he was alone and cut-off on 
this god forsaken water buffalo path. Back in the 
states Carter had had it easy (leaving aside the almost 
daily irritations of being Gomer Pyle's NCO), a cushy 
job, a girl friend, and no combat duty. 

Easy street had ended the day that Pyle, assigned to 
wash and wax the General's brand new Cadillac Seville 
delivered the car to the Base commander's office. He 
delivered it all right. He drove it right through the 
front door and onto his desk. Pyle claimed his foot had 
"slipped" on the accelerator. He even offered to pay 
for the car out of his Marine Corps pay...for the next 
twenty years.

The base commander hit the roof. The very next morning 
both Pyle and Carter had orders for Vietnam. By evening 
they were on a plane winging its way across the 
Pacific. Upon arrival they were immediately dispatched 
to a combat unit, with Carter replacing a platoon 
sergeant who was completing his tour of duty. 

From the moment that Vince assumed command of that 
combat platoon he began plotting the final solution 
that would rid him once and for all of the Gomer Pyle 
problem. He figured he had to before Pyle got him 
killed and maybe the whole platoon as well.

So whenever they were out on recon or patrol, Vince 
assigned Pyle the most dangerous position: point man. 
But it was all to no avail. Pyle seemed to lead a 
charmed life. Bullets that were meant for him flew 
right on past or hit other men behind him. Carter 
figured it was because Pyle tended to skip down the 
trail with those obnoxious little erratic movements 
that had so infuriated the Sergeant on the drill field 
but also made Pyle hard to track in a rifle sight. Not 
only did Pyle skip over trip wires and tiger pits, he 
spotted them for the rest of the platoon.

Vince's plan was backfiring. Not only was Pyle 
surviving, he was becoming popular and respected with 
the rest of the platoon as someone they could count on 
to keep them alive during their tour of duty. Pyle was 
an albatross around Vince's neck that he just couldn't 
shake off.

So whenever they were at base camp with the rest of the 
battalion, Carter started assigning Pyle to night guard 
duty, again on an almost regular basis. Pyle bore it 
all with that irritating, good-natured country bumpkin 
enthusiasm of his which only made Pyle more popular. 
Finally, one morning Pyle turned up missing when he was 
due to be relieved by the day watch.

Secretly, Carter was elated. The VC must have slit 
Pyle's throat and drug the body off, or taken him 
prisoner. It didn't matter. It didn't even matter why, 
Pyle was gone, out of his hair.

But then that greenhorn Lieutenant Gresham had summoned 
Carter to his tent and given the Sergeant a through 
dressing down, as if Pyle turning up missing was 
somehow Vince's fault! Gresham kept insisting that Pyle 
was a good marine and a model soldier, that the whole 
platoon knew that Carter singled Pyle out for hazardous 
duty out of some kind of personal vendetta, that Pyle's 
loss would have a devastating effect on the morale of 
the platoon that had come to depend on him and that it 
was Carter's duty to take a squad and go out and 
retrieve the man.

Carter was devastated. He tried to explain to the 
Lieutenant that it was bad tactics, in fact a mistake, 
to risk a whole squad to retrieve one man who was 
probably dead anyhow. Carter pointed out that he knew 
this from experience as a veteran in Korea.

But Gresham wouldn't hear of it. He ordered Carter to 
take a squad of ten men and start the search for Pyle 
that very morning and not to return till he found him. 
If he didn't bring Pyle back, Gresham promised to court 
martial Carter for "dereliction of duty".

So Carter had rounded up 10 "volunteers" and headed for 
the bush in the most likely direction. There were no 
signs of a struggle but there were tracks of what were 
probably Pyle's Marine issue boots. Late in the 
afternoon some three miles from base camp as a 
torrential downpour set in they were ambushed by the 
VC. The squad scattered to the foliage and Carter was 
pinned down. Eventually he managed to crawl to what 
passed for good cover, a hollowed out fallen tree 
trunk.

It was here that he now sat waiting, waiting for some 
sign of the rest of his squad.

As the rain suddenly ended, the late afternoon sun cast 
long shadows through the jungle canopy. The incessant 
chorus of millions of rain drops dripping from 
thousands of leaves and the sound of thousands of frogs 
masked the noise of any movement nearby for Carter. So 
he was not entirely surprised when he felt the dull 
stab of the barrel of an AK-47 at his back and the sing 
song command of a VC soldier telling him to put his 
hands up. Carter did as he was told, letting the 
useless M-16 fall to the ground. 

There were four of them. One picked up Carter's rifle 
while another knocked the helmet off of Vince's head. A 
kick in the butt and a sharp command told Carter to 
stand up, put his hands on his head and get moving. The 
black pajama clad VC were only a little shorter than 
Carter but moved swiftly and silently through the dense 
undergrowth.

After 10 minutes or so they stopped by a tree stump. 
One of them grabbed Vince's hands and tied them behind 
his back with a piece of rope while another one rapped 
a series of rapid then slow, Morse code like sounds on 
the tree stump. Carter wondered what the hell this was. 
Communication with the wood spirits? What was going on? 
Then a rapping reply echoed hollowly from the stump. 
The VC by the stump rapped his own reply and a moment 
later the "tree stump" was swinging up in the air on a 
trap door hinge.

A VC tunnel network! That's where they were going to 
take him, inside one of those god-forsaken VC tunnels. 
A foot in his butt pushed Carter toward the hole in the 
ground. Hands reached out of the tunnel and grabbed his 
feet while a VC behind him grabbed his chest and he was 
lowered into the blackness. Carter sensed that he was 
being carried/pushed down a long winding series of 
corridors. 

Occasionally he would catch a glimpse of light on the 
curve of a wall down some intersection. But it took 
only a few seconds for him to realize that he was 
totally disoriented in the maze. Finally they 
unceremoniously dumped him against a wall in what he 
assumed was some kind of holding hole for prisoners. 
His captors didn't hang around, but left him tied up, 
sitting against the wall as they scurried off down 
another tunnel.

They didn't seem to have left a guard. Maybe they 
figured they didn't have to. Or maybe there was an 
officer in the next "room" (wherever that was) waiting 
to question him. Funny, aside from distant faint echoes 
of voices, it was still as death in here. Vince sat 
alone in the darkness, waiting for what seemed like an 
eternity. 

He realized that in the silent blackness he was rapidly 
beginning to loose any sense of the passage of time. 
Mind torture, that's what this was. Those inscrutable 
little VC bastards were just going to leave him here to 
contemplate his navel for a week and then probably 
shine a big bright light in his eyes and he'd spill his 
guts about whatever they wanted to know just out of 
gratitude for human contact...

A blinding beam of light flashed out of the darkness 
and into Carter's face.

"Surprise, surprise, surprise!"

Vince's heart sank. He had heard those words a thousand 
times before. And they could only have been uttered by 
one human on the planet. It was Pyle. He was alive.

"Pyle you idiot! Shut up, they'll hear you." Carter 
hissed, full of anxious exasperation that quickly 
softened. "Oh never mind, just turn off that light and 
untie these ropes. We gotta get outta here, now. I 
gotta admit though Pyle, I've never been so glad to see 
you in my life. How did you find me?"

Gomer turned his flashlight to dim and gave Vince a big 
smile. 

"I'm really glad to see you too Sergeant Carter," he 
said in that good naturedly Southern twang of his. "But 
I didn't find you, you found me."

"I found you??!! You mean you just escaped? Come on 
untie these ropes." Pyle never ceased to amaze Vince.

"I really and truly wish I could Sergeant Carter but I 
can't."

"Pyle, Why not?!" Vince whispered hoarsely. He could 
feel the veins on the side of his neck starting to pop.

"There's somebody that I want you to meet Sergeant 
Carter."

A slender slight figure of a girl with long black hair 
crawled up to the light of Pyle's flashlight.

"This here is Xuang. She's 18 years old. She's my 
fiancé. Xuang means ‘springtime'."

Carter smiled indulgently nodding politely toward the 
girl. She had that heart stopping, knee melting, 
delicate and fragile beauty of young Vietnamese women.

"I'm very pleased I'm sure to make your acquaintance 
Miss and I wish you and Gomer here... Wait a minute, 
Pyle. Did you say your fiancé?!"

"Yes, Sergeant. Xuang is the reason I left the base. 
You see she would come out and talk to me at night 
while I was standing guard and all, keeping me company 
and what with me speaking a little Vietnamese and Xuang 
speaking a little English we got to know each other 
real well over the past few weeks. We started holding 
hands and all and well...one thing led to another 
and.." Gomer embarrassedly paused, blushing slightly. 

"Anyway, to make a long story short, she invited me to 
her village and I met her daddy and her mamma and her 
aunts and uncles and all her little sisters and 
brothers and cousins and now she's going to be the 
future Mrs. Pyle!" Gomer beamed from ear to ear, 
grabbing Xuang's little body around the shoulders and 
pressing her closely to his side.

Not for the first time since he'd known Pyle, Vince's 
jaw dropped about a foot.

Summoning a hidden reserve of extra superhuman strength 
reserved exclusively for Marine Corps ex-Drill 
Instructors, Vince recovered his composure so he could 
speak. 

"Look Pyle, if you untie these ropes and we get out of 
here right now and I do mean right now, I won't say a 
thing about your desertion. We can just say that the VC 
captured you back at the base and took you prisoner 
there rather than at Xuang's village..."

"Oh I'm not a prisoner Sergeant."

"You're not?" Vince said, as the right side of his lip 
turned slowly upward baring his teeth in an expression 
of overwhelming incredulity that always seemed to 
precede Pyle dropping the boom on him.

"No Sergeant, you are. You see Xuang's father is what 
you call the ‘political officer' of the village and.."

"PYLE!" the scream of Vince's voice echoed and reechoed 
down the long black tunnels of the complex. Pyle and 
Xuang jumped back at least a couple of feet in 
startlement.

"Please, Sergeant Carter, please don't yell." Gomer 
said.

"Pyle! Pyle! Are you crazy Pyle? She's a VC! She's the 
enemy! You can't have a VC for a girl friend!."

"She's not my girl friend, Sgt. Carter, she's my 
fiancé."

"Girlfriend, fiancé, its all the same, Pyle. You're 
consorting with the enemy."

"Well now, that's not really fair Sergeant Carter", 
Gomer replied. Vince sensed that Gomer was warming up 
for another one of those very personable, rustic, folk-
wisdom, pain-in-the-ass, lectures of his. "If there's 
one thing I've found out, its that people are people no 
matter where you go. Why everyone just wants to be 
treated the same as you and I would Sergeant Carter, 
that's the Golden Rule .... ‘do unto others as you 
would have them do unto you'..."

"Forget the Golden Rule Pyle! This is war! People are 
not people, they're the enemy..."

Vince caught himself. He could see by the look of 
perplexed amazement on Pyle's face that none of this 
was getting through.

"What I mean is", Carter continued, forcing himself 
with Herculean effort to be calm, "is that in war some 
people are not people. They're the enemy...like her." 
Vince nodded his head towards Xuang.

Gomer just sadly shook his head.

"I wish I could make you understand Sgt. Carter, I 
really and truly do. You see Xuang's father is a farmer 
just like the folks back home around Mayberry. Only 
difference is is that back home they grow mostly corn 
and sorghum and here they mainly grow rice."

Vince tried another angle. "Are you really sure you've 
thought this thing all the way through Pyle? What about 
a mixed marriage? What happens to any kids you have?"

"Well, you're right there Sergeant, seeing as how I'm a 
Baptist and she's a Buddhist. But I've always believed 
that religion should never stand in the way of two 
people finding happiness who are really and truly in 
love with one another."

Vince rolled his eyes. This was hopeless. It was 
obvious that Pyle had been brainwashed by the VC, what 
especially with him probably having sex for the first 
time and all.

"Look Pyle, none of that matters. What really matters 
is this. You've got to untie me and let me go so I can 
go back and warn base camp that there's a whole VC 
tunnel complex not five klics away..."

"Oh I couldn't do that Sergeant. What would happen to 
Xuang's village and her mamma and all her little 
sisters and brothers and cousins if the Captain found 
out about this here tunnel under the village?" Gomer 
paused. "I can tell you right now, Sergeant. Terrible, 
terrible things would happen and that just wouldn't be 
right. Especially if they found out about the medical 
supplies from the base and all."

"Medical supplies? You gave the VC our medical 
supplies?"

"Well no Sergeant, I just told Xuang where she and her 
friends could find them. What with her little brother 
having malaria and all..."

"Pyle," Vince moaned. "What could possibly happen now 
that's any worse than this?" Carter hung his head 
between his knees. Gomer placed his hand on Vince's 
shoulder in a gesture of compassion.

"Don't worry Sergeant, Xuang says you won't be here for 
long. In another three days they're gonna take you up 
to the DMZ and then on to Hanoi. You won't have to 
fight anymore Sergeant Carter. There might even be a 
prisoner exchange. Till then you can stay right here 
snug as a bug in a rug with Xuang and me in this here 
tunnel." Gomer gently squeezed Xuang's hand. "We call 
it our ‘tunnel of love'".

"Great Pyle, just fucking great. I'm gonna be eating 
rats and rice in some POW camp while you and your 
fiancé are visiting Uncle Ho's amusement park taking 
the boat ride through his Viet Cong ‘tunnel of love'. 
Just fucking great."

***

Over the next three days Carter found that he was able 
to sleep, even when hogtied. It was just that the 
sounds of Pyle and his VC girl friend making out in 
practically the same room were very distracting. Carter 
was sure Pyle had been a virgin till he met this girl. 
Women seemed to like Pyle, they felt safe around him. 
What was the phrase? Oh yeah, they loved him like a 
brother. Sure, they'd go out with him, they might even 
hold hands and smooch with him, but Carter was sure 
that none of the broads Pyle had dated back in the 
states ever "went all the way" with him. Back then, 
Carter had sometimes wondered if Pyle wasn't really 
queer and just went out with women sometimes as a 
front.

Now, like a starving man stumbling out of the desert 
into a full buffet, Pyle was gorging himself with sex 
every night. Pyle and his "fiancé" seemed to go at it 
non-stop. It wouldn't have been so bad except for the 
fact that Carter had only been laid once since he got 
here, during a rare visit to a Saigon whorehouse, then 
it was back in the bush for three months. 

Carter was really horny and now here was Pyle and his 
VC girlfriend going at it like a couple of bunnies day 
and night. And all Carter could do was listen, loose 
sleep and try to get off on the frustration. It was 
real torture. Over and over again, every night he had 
to listen to things like: "Go-mer, Go-mer, Ooooohhhh! 
Ooooohhhhh! Go-mer! (pant, pant, pant, pant) 
OOOoooohhhh!"

What was really distracting for Carter though was 
Pyle's strange and disquieting proclivity to suddenly 
and with out warning shout.  "SHAZAAM!" at the top of 
his lungs whenever he attained orgasm. Idly, Carter 
wondered what Pyle's new girlfriend thought of that or 
what she thought it meant.

***

On the fourth day though Carter suddenly had other 
problems to worry about. After a breakfast of steamy 
hot rice, the guard that was to escort Carter to the 
DMZ finally showed up. He was the biggest Vietnamese 
Carter had ever seen. At least as tall as Gomer and 
twice as wide. He gave Carter a funny sort of smile.

"Sergeant, Xuang says this here is Le Duc. He's gonna 
be your guard to the DMZ. She says everyone in the 
village likes Le Duc cause he's so silly. He makes 
everyone laugh cause he's always pretending like he's a 
little girl. She says that she can tell that Le Duc 
really likes you and that you two are gonna get along 
just swell."

"PYLE!" Vince screamed for the last time as the massive 
VC picked Carter up and hoisted him over his shoulder 
like a burlap bag full of rice. "PYLE! ---GET --- ME---
OUT---OF---HERE!" Vince shouted as Le Duc ascended the 
ladder to the entrance of the tunnel.

"Bye, bye Sergeant Carter. You all come back and visit 
us when the war's over!" Gomer called out.

Gomer and Xuang just stood at the bottom of the tunnel 
entrance, bathed in sunlight, holding each other and 
waving a fond farewell to Sergeant Vincent Carter USMC.

Epilogue:

Sergeant Vincent Carter USMC was released from Hanoi 
when the war ended in 1973 with the Paris Peace 
Accords. He claimed never to have found Gomer Pyle and 
affirmed that Pyle was indeed "Missing in Action". But 
as late as 1980 there were rumors of tall, gangly Amer-
Asian children in central Vietnam who would 
unexpectedly leap from bushes and shout "Surprise, 
Surprise Surprise!" at terrified and unwary travelers.

END

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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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