“Never, in the history of the world, hardcore porn included…. did a penis ever look so beautiful in a woman’s mouth…..”
All men are pigs. Marines are bigger pigs. Marine Infantrymen, in combat, while hunting the enemy, are the biggest pigs. There is no way around this, it’s always been like this, and always will. Warriors in between battles have to be like this if they want to continue maiming other human beings with smiles on their faces. It’s a part of war that you don’t see too often in movies, but believe me, it’s real.
“Scent of an Angel”
July 6, 2012
Musa Quala District Center, Helmand Province, Afghanistan.
continued from "Gay Chicken".....
Nick and I deployed together on the 31st MEU the year before. We slept 2 feet away from each other, worked out, danced, wrestled, argued, took turns beating off, and giggled like 8 year old brothers the entire deployment. He’s a huge guy, 6 foot 4, and 225 pounds of muscle, with a chiseled face and blue eyes. He’s so goddamn handsome he looks like he belongs on a Marine Corps recruiting poster. He played tight end for the Packers for a minute before he realized that he really didn’t care about football as much as everyone else. So he quit, and a few months later joined the Marine Corps.
Nick and I hugged it out and caught up on what we had missed during the last few months of combat. He talked me through the suicide attacks that happened just outside base a month before. The Taliban tried killing the local Afghan Police Chief, Commander Koka, with a coordinated attack consisting of seven guys. One guy detonated his suicide vest too soon and missed the target, taking out one of his Taliban buddies. Talk about an air ball. A few other shitheads followed after the blast with AKs, just in time for Commander Koka to pull out his pistol and shoot two of them. When Koka ran out of ammo, another suicide bomber ran in and detonated close enough to put Koka in a coma. The rest of the Taliban attackers were shot by the Afghan Police who finally pulled their thumbs out of each others asses and started defending their country. I actually watched some of this happen on the screens in the Command Center tent on my patrol base. All I could see were the suicide vest explosions and RPGs being shot at the medevac helicopters. It’s funny, you see the best and most realistic war movies in combat…
We looked out Nick’s window and he showed me where everything went down. He told me which officers kept their shit together and behaved like Marines, and which officers behaved like despicable little bitches. He re-enacted the way a couple of the pussies responded and we had a good laugh.
The way a Marine conducts himself under stress will dictate his reputation for his entire career as a Marine, so it’s kind of important to not be a bitch.
We laughed for a while, caught up on each others lives, I demanded he name his son after me, he declined, then I went to visit a few other buddies before the brief.
After chow I headed to the confirmation brief, where my Company Commander was going to show the Battalion Staff his tactical brilliance, and the Battalion Staff was going to show Kilo Company how they were going to support us while we tried to step on cockroaches in Zamindawar.
By the I arrived at the confirmation room I had been fucking around with old friends for several hours, so I was feeling very silly, and very arrogant.
The confirmation room looked like the same scene that Hollywood has depicted a million times. A high ranking guy stands at the front of a room, next to a white screen with a powerpoint presentation, briefing the plan for a mission, and all the lower ranking guys sit around listening. Except this scene was much more comical.
Against good judgment, I took a seat at the very back of the room, behind a pillar. From behind my pillar, I had absolutely no view of anything. This was an intentional and childish act of both comedy, and defiance. I knew my buddies would laugh, and I knew that I was saying to every person in that room, “I don’t give a fuck about anything that will be said here at this brief.” I sat straight up with my notepad out, staring intently at the pillar that was two feet in front of me as if it was teaching me something important.
If I haven’t already made it clear, I was a terrible Officer.
Every Lieutenant I knew who walked in the room and saw me sitting behind the pillar began laughing. One Lieutenant said “Wow, Donny. Still fucking off. Love it.”
I kept my act up as my Company Commander walked in. He looked at me and said, “Jesus, O’Malley do you have to make It that obvious?” He shook his head in disgust and continued walking to his seat at the table.
I acted confused, “I don’t know what you’re talking about sir.” He just shook his head and ignored me. He knew I was being a jackass, and I think a part of him wanted to laugh, and part of him wanted to punch me in the face; but as my boss he couldn’t do either. Plus, my childish behavior in front of all the other Officers in the room reflected poorly on him as my Commander.
I placed my map on the bench next to me, intending to hold the seat for Nick. To my surprise, some Major I didn’t know walked up to the bench, picked up the map, and sat down beside me.
Officer's get a bad rap because some of them think their rank gives them privileges that extend beyond their command, and his guy looked like one of those Officers.
He looked like a hardass, but I was indifferent to his rank and demeanor. By this point in the deployment my body was so broken, I knew that if I survived and made it back home, I wasn't going to be a Marine much longer. This, combined with extreme arrogance, made me an even more terrible Officer. So when a hardass looking Major that I didn't know took my buddy's seat, I was so annoyed I lost my sense of rank and tact. I looked down at the spot that was just two seconds ago guarded by my map. Then I leaned towards him and looked him in the eyes with a very annoyed look on my face.
“Excuse me, someone is sitting there, the map in your hands was holding his place.” I looked him right in his eyes and said it almost aggressively.
He looked confused and embarrassed and remorseful all at the same time. I'm sure he never had a Lieutenant speak to him with that tone, and he wasn’t mentally prepared to chew me out.
“Oh, uhh, ok” He got up quickly and looked around, although he could have just scooted down.
“Can I have my map back?”
He handed me my map.
“Thank you, sir.” I said "sir" with disdain. He could tell.
He squirreled away and found another seat.
Two seconds later I saw something that made my jaw open so wide it almost dislocated, made my eyes pop out of my sockets, and made my dick jump from 6 to 12. A blonde, blue eyed, civilian, FEMALE. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Either that, or I was just painfully horny….I’d bet on the latter. I followed her with wide eyes and an open jaw as she walked to her seat. She sat on the left side of the room, giving me a perfect view of her luscious little body. I tried hard to avoid blatantly staring, so in the interest of being less creepy, I peered out of the corner of my eye. I felt my heart rate rise, my blood pressure go up, and heard my dick yelling at me from under my pants, “YOU BETTER MAKE SOME FUCKIN MAGIC HAPPEN DONNY! I NEEEEEED THAT PUSSY!”
I waved him off and said, “shut the fuck up, dick. Go away! We’ll talk later!”
He said, “FU---“ and then I pressed my legs together and shut him up.
I realized that if I didn’t get my shit together I was going to be crippled by the primitive urge to inseminate that blonde in a porta potty. I used all the discipline in my body to put her out of mind and pretend like she didn’t exist. It worked, for a short period of time. Fortunately Nick walked in at that very second.
I got giddy and slapped my hand on the empty bench next to me and waved to him like I was a high school girl.
“Wow, nice seat bro. You got the best view in the house,” Nick said.
“Yeah, aren’t you jealous?”
“Kind of, actually.”
“ATTENTION ON DECK,” someone yelled.
We all stood up at attention as the Battalion Commander walked in.
“At ease Marines,” the Battalion Commander said. We all sat down.
The brief began, and almost instantly people began falling asleep. I laughed to myself as I looked at all the faces around the room. Some looked serious, some looked annoyed, some looked skeptical, some looked confused, some looked comatose.
I looked entertained. I looked like the hyper kid with ADHD in 5th grade who was always moving around and doing stupid things to get attention.
The meeting was run by Major Dyce, the Battalion Operations Officer, who, in the opinion of every single Marine in the battalion, was a belt-fed-fucking retard. I don’t say that as a joke, I used to nanny for an autistic boy in college, and I worked with disabled children after college, and I’m certain Major Dyce had Asperger’s. Major Dyce wore a mustache that has only been worn by two men in all of history; Hitler and Charlie Chaplain. His cartoon character stash served as comedic relief to everyone who saw it, despite the fact that the Battalion Commander banned mustaches in the battalion. Apparently, once you hit Major, higher orders don't matter.
I actually had incredible respect for what he was able to accomplish, because he must have worked his ass off to become the first Marine Officer with autism.
The meeting went on. These are the types of things that were discussed in the meeting.
“If one helicopter goes down, we will do this (Insert retarded plan here)”
“If you run out of water on day 2, we will do this______”
“If the first wave of helicopters comes under fire during insert we will do this ____”
“If we lose comm with you at any point, we will do this _____”
And so on.
All important shit, but everything was done half-ass. It was as if they were doing bare minimum planning just to put a check in the box, without thinking about what it would ACTUALLY be like to be a grunt on the ground doing the things that they were talking about. The plan for a downed helicopter was especially stupid and made me angry. Everyone in the room knew it was stupid, everyone was thinking about the same thing, and yet despite the knowledge that several helicopters went down each month, no one else said a word about the downed helicopter plan that made no sense. I scooted out from behind my pillar and asked a question about the plan that clearly indicated it was a stupid plan.
Major Dyce tried explaining the plan, attempting to make it sound less stupid, but he kept stepping on his own tongue. I actually felt bad and worried for a second that he was going to lose his shit and start banging his head against the wall. He sounded so stupid the Battalion Commander had to save him.
“Well, it sounds like we need to do some work on the downed helicopter plan, lets re-attack that tomorrow morning at the terrain model and move on for now,” said the BC.
Brilliant Leadership.
As we sat there during the brief, I pretended to take diligent notes. What I was actually doing, was writing the same thing that I wrote in my notepad during every combat order I had ever received, since the beginning of my Marine Corps training. I wrote the words,
“PLEASE FUCK ME IN MY ASS IN THE PORTA POTTY” in big letters on the page of my notebook. I elbowed Nick and gave him a serious look, then used my pen to tap on the words in my notebook to direct his attention to my notepad.
As soon as he registered my words he bit his bottom lip hard and looked at the ground, using all the strength and discipline he had as a Marine not to crack up laughing. Just seeing his response, combined with my love for my own jokes, required me to do the same thing to prevent myself from laughing hysterically.
Nick must have seen me do that joke at least a dozen times over two years, but I got him every time.
In need of someone else to fuck with, I leaned to my right and did the exact same thing to the Lieutenant next to me. I didn’t know him well, and had never done it to him before, plus he wasn’t a grunt like Nick and I. As soon as he registered the words he lost his shit and had to fake a coughing fit to disguise his laughter. I tried to look serious because most of the eyes in the room were aimed in our direction.
“Are you ok bro?” I asked the Lieutenant.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
The Battalion Commander took charge and made a quick decision. He said boldly,
“Drink some water Lieutenant.”
“I will sir, thank you sir,” the Lieutenant replied.
The BC wrote himself up for a NAM.
The brief continued.
When he was done coughing and sipping water he showed me his notebook. He had tally marks on his paper because he was keeping a tally of how many times Major Dyce said the word “UHHHHHHHHHH” while briefing. He was at 46 times and he had been speaking for 6 minutes.
That’s actually very impressive for someone with Asperger’s.
Next came the news from Major Dyce that woke us all up;
“Uhhhhh, well, uhhhhh, we have one slight situation that we are currently working on. Uhhhhh. The, uhhhhh, closest Shock Trauma Platoon at FOB (Forward Operating Base) Eddie is running low on all blood types except A-, and the medevac helicopters are in direct support of 1st Battalion 2nd Marines because they have a large clearing operation going on right now in the Kajaki District. But we are working on this to make sure that we support Kilo Company with everything they need. But the mission WILL GO AS PLANNED.”
Every single pair of eyebrows in that room was raised as high as they could go. Everyone in Kilo Company, which was 5 Officers and our aircraft controller, searched the room to make eye contact with each other. All of our eyes found at least one other pair of Kilo Company eyes, and without saying a word, we all heard the same words in our heads, “Holy shit we are all REALLY going to die this time.”
Nick leaned over and whispered in my ear “Nice knowin’ ya buddy. I’ll be sure to tell your family you died dishonorably.”
I leaned in his ear, “thank you, they would have wanted it that way.”
I turned to look forward, then I leaned back into his ear, “you know what, fuck it bro, I’m droppin’ bombs on everything this time. If I’m gonna’ die I’m goin’ out with a lotta KIA’s.”
“Please take me with you,” Nick whispered.
“Sorry bro, need you to stay back and watch the fort, besides your much more valuable to the USA here.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m sorry that was mean. I’ll take pictures for you.”
“Fuck your pictures” he said, leaning forward. I could tell he was hurt, he loved action and hated being behind the wire, just like I did at the beginning of my deployment. I knew his pain.
We went back to pretending to listen to the inspiring logistics brief, and I stopped fucking around. I got serious, REAL serious, because I could no longer ignore the only blonde woman in the Helmand Province.
When she first entered the room, my initial thought was “what…..the…..fuck? Who? why? How? How.......do I put my dick in her?”
Then I thought to myself “Don’t even fucking look at her Donny, it’s not worth it, you’re gonna get creepy and stare, and she’s gonna catch you, and shit’s gonna get weird. So don’t even look in her direction.”
I took my own advice, and I did a pretty decent job ignoring her, until this point in the meeting. I had no one to fuck with anymore, my jokes were old, and the only thing I could think about was finding a dark place on base to fuck this blonde girl without getting caught.
To this day I don’t know anything about her, nor why she was there. I think she was a part of the District Stability Team, which is a civilian job held by a person with the purest heart; full of good intentions, and dead-set on risking their life while saving the world, one shit-hole at a time.
She looked to be in her mid-twenties, she had bright blonde hair that I desperately wanted to smell, big cold blue eyes, the most perfect skin I had ever seen, rosy cheeks, white teeth, and plump lips. Her body looked perfectly curved. Her boobs looked to be at least a full B, her butt had some jiggle to it, and I imagined she had just the right moves. She looked oddly young to me, as if she was in Afghanistan to receive elective credit for her “Sustainable Agriculture” minor.
In San Diego, she would have been a 6 at best. As a matter of fact I probably would not have given her a second glance unless I’d had at least a half a fifth of whipped vodka…..
But because she was in Afghanistan, because I hadn’t seen a woman without a veil in months, because I didn’t know that blondes even existed in Afghanistan, because I had watched all the porns on my computer at least 1000 times, and because I was terribly, painfully, blisteringly horny; she was the most beautiful woman in the entire world. Only a man who has been deployed could possibly understand what I felt for this woman at that moment. She was, quite simply, an angel. I was so fascinated by the sight of her that it made me uncomfortable, it made my hands sweat. I felt like a child molester in the center of the ballpit at Chucky Cheese. I caught myself staring at her for minutes at a time. I stared at her and saw a vision of us twirling in a circle in the middle of a poppy field, madly in love. I had a vision of us making out somewhere on the base, possibly in the little tree line near the creek, by the food storage containers; at night, when no one else was around. I imagined her lips were the softest things on the planet. Her tongue was bubbly and sloppy.
Then, clear as day, like it had just happened, I saw my dick in her mouth. It looked like a perfect fit.
Never in my own experience, nor in any porn, nor between any couple, has a dick ever looked so beautiful in a woman’s mouth than mine did in hers, right there in that room, in my imagination. I closed my eyes and the vision became more real for me. I saw her look up at me with her big cold blue eyes. Her eyes were magical and I got lost in them for a minute. I imagined being on a spaceship in the galaxy of her retina, I kept making my spaceship do backflips. My dream zoomed out of her retina and we were magically transformed back into the poppy field. It was a beautiful day, with a light breeze, and a few clouds to make the sky more pretty. The poppy in this field was much higher than normal, providing us adequate cover for a midday blowjob. I looked all around me and took in my surroundings. I smiled, I was in heaven. I’m not religious, but at that moment, God existed, because only he could have created the heaven I was in.
All of a sudden I heard classical music. I looked down and she was smiling at me. She looked so happy to have my dick in her mouth. It was almost as if she had been craving it for the entire deployment, and now that she had it in her mouth, her soul was fulfilled more than God himself had ever fulfilled it. I felt like fate had brought us together, I smiled at her; she started giggling/gagging as I petted her hair. Then the music got louder and started to sound familiar. I strained to hear it, then I figured out who was singing to me. It was Andrea Bocelli, and he was singing “Con Te Partiro” to me…… to us. My dick went in and out of her mouth romantically slowly; to the rhythm of Andre’s magnificent voice. I had never made passionate love to a woman’s face before (I’d only fucked face), but I guess when you’re in heaven, that happens. It looked like this, play the song and follow along;
(Slide in slowly) Co-oooooooon teeeeeeeeeee
(Slide out slowly) paaaaaartiròooooooooooooo
(Slide in slowly) paaaesiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
(Slide out quick) che
(Slide in quick) non
(Slide out quick) ho
(Slide in slow and pet her hair) maiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
Suddenly the breeze picked up and blew a poppy plant into my left side. Then the plant leaned into my rib cage a little harder.
Then I woke up from my daydream and realized that it wasn’t a poppy plant, it was Nick, elbowing me in my side. I turned and looked at him with a very angry look on my face. My dream was going wonderfully. I was royally pissed that he took me out of it before I busted my nut.
He leaned in to my ear and said,
“Dude you have no fucking idea what a creep you look like right now. I’m not kidding. If I was her I’d run out of this room right now and accuse you of sexual assault with your eyes. Really dude, comon. Have some respect man, that's not cool for her.”
At that moment I should have felt shame. But I didn’t, instead I felt sadness, because I wished my brother was there to see me. No one else on earth has caught me creeping more than my brother has, and coincidentally, no one else finds it more amusing when I get caught in creeper mode, than my little brother.
First I felt lonely missing my brother, then I became ashamed of my behavior, then magically, thanks to my ADHD, both emotions were gone, and I focused back on the angel.
I knew I had to stop staring, and I did, kind of. But I made a promise to myself that I was not going to leave the District Center without knowing how this angel’s hair smelled.
Allow me to explain.
Since arriving in Afghanistan I went the first month without a shower, I slept in a tent filled with a powerful odor of sweat, balls, socks, and farts. I had patrolled through sopping wet manure laden poppy fields that were being irrigated as we walked through them. I had smelled rotting, burnt, and bleeding Afghan bodies, spent ammunition, homemade explosives, blown IED’s, truck exhaust, dead animals, live animals and the shitholes they lived in, a constant waft of human shit, a constant waft of human piss, the piles of chicken shit I slept in because they were softer than the ground, and the bottom line was; seeing that girl’s shiny blonde hair made something deep within in my soul ache to smell it.
I wasn’t going ANYWHERE, until I smelled her hair.
The meeting finished, and I spoke to no one. My demeanor was completely different. I was a man on a mission. I sat in my seat and watched everyone leave, but I focused on HER.
She took forever because she was busy talking with senior officers about “Afghan Stability” or some other lame bullshit. I’d bet a paycheck that both those officers were thinking the same thing I was thinking. Fuckers.
Finally she began to walk out of the briefing room and I jumped out of my seat to get as close to her as possible. I was too late, there were two stinky Marine Officers between me and her. I took a big breathe in the hopes I’d get a hint of something. I got nothing.
I thought for a second that I was a fool for assuming she smelled good. After all, we were in the boonies of Afghanistan.
My soul wouldn’t let me hold on to that thought. Something inside me told me that her hair smelled magical. I stayed close behind her as I walked, then all of sudden she stopped and started talking to some fucking dork. I walked right past her and the dork and took a deep breath through my nostrils, but didn’t time my breathing right so I was too late. I got nothing.
I kept walking out the door, because anything else would have looked really weird. I stood outside and pondered whether or not I should go back for another olfactory resupply and risk looking like a complete dumbass, or if I should just go to the bathroom and beat off so I could think straight. I decided that it was absolutely worth looking like a dumbass for the chance to be in the same room with that girl and smel her hair. I gathered up my courage and walked back inside; she was facing me, so I couldn’t be too creepy. I casually walked passed her, but not too close, and took a deep breathe. I thought I got a tiny hint of something fruity. It gave me hope. It filled my heart with joy. I knew it was all worth it, but I wasn’t satisfied.
I kept walking and turned the corner, headed back to the briefing room. With no better ideas, I leaned against the wall next to the briefing room, and pretended to read my notebook. I creepily peeked around the corner and saw her in the same spot talking to the same dork. I took two deep breaths in, then slowly began exhaling. I made my move and walked right towards her backside, my eyes focused intently on her hair. I thought I saw a halo around her head. The dork she was talking to could see everything I was doing, and I'm certain he became afraid of me, because when I’m on point, I’m that fucking creepy. Just when I got close enough I slowed my step and took the biggest breathe I have ever taken in my life. My nostrils filled with a thousand fruits, my heart sang “Hallelujah,” my dick went from 6 to 12, and I instantly had a few images of shampoo commercials in my head. Pantene Pro-V, Head and Shoulders, and Herbal Essences. I saw a girl in the shower washing her hair and screaming “YES YES YES YES!” Then I saw myself slamming the blonde girl from behind in a porta potty with her screaming “YES YES YES YES!”
And with that thought, I didn’t miss a single stride. I walked my happy ass straight to the porta potty and held my breathe for as long as I could with the image of her face and the smell of her fruity hair fresh in my mind. I squeezed my eyes closed and ignored the powerful burning stench of fresh hot shit, I ignored the fact that inside the porta potty was probably 130 degrees, and I ignored the sounds of dozens of people outside as I jerked my dick into a hot oblivion. I tried to go back to the poppy field image, but this time the poppy wasn’t as tall, it was dry and dying, and the sun was burning my skin. I tried to hear the sounds of Andrea Bocelli singing my orgasm to completion, but he was singing off tune, and he kept forgetting the words. Finally I imagined her sitting on the porta potty begging me to cum on her face, and with that thought, I blew all over it.
When my orgasm subsided and I stopped grunting to myself, I came out of my dream and the image of her sitting on the porta potty with my cum all over her face disappeared. Reality hit me really hard. I took in a waft of fresh, hot, shit. I looked down at the toilet and saw three feet of steaming human feces. I looked down at my dick. He was black and blue and he looked like he was crying. He looked up and me and said,
“What’s your fucking problem dude? Don’t you remember the fucking safeword? You’re a fucking dick.”
I tried to apologize but it was no use. Poor little guy. I choked his fucking brains out by mistake, and I'm not even into choking.
I looked down at my legs, I was sweating so much it looked like I was in the shower. I held my right hand up and looked at it with dismay. I was thoroughly disgusted with myself. I was disgusted with everything about me; my smell, my look, my thoughts the last few hours, my behavior, everything. Disgusting. I hated me and was repulsed by me. I took a deep breath in preparation for a depressing sigh and the stench of fresh, hot, shit punched me in the nose and I almost vomited. It was time to go.
I cleaned up with hand sanitizer, got dressed, slung my rifle back over my shoulder and exited the wooden porta potty. With one breath of relatively fresh air outside the porta potty, I felt better about my life. After I was 50 feet away from the porta potties, smelling significantly cleaner air by Afghan standards, I began to love myself again.
As I walked back to my room with my head down, avoiding all eye contact, and feeling a strong sense of shame, I was still hesitant to allow myself to fall madly in love with myself again, but after hearing a group of Marines talk about how to fuck goats in a somewhat serious manner, I realized that there was no need to be ashamed. I was just being a Marine; and besides, I got to smell the scent of an angel.
All men are pigs. Marines are bigger pigs. Marine Infantrymen, in combat, while hunting the enemy, are the biggest pigs. There is no way around this, it’s always been like this, and always will. Warriors in between battles have to be like this if they want to continue maiming other human beings with smiles on their faces. It’s a part of war that you don’t see too often in movies, but believe me, it’s real.
“Scent of an Angel”
July 6, 2012
Musa Quala District Center, Helmand Province, Afghanistan.
continued from "Gay Chicken".....
Nick and I deployed together on the 31st MEU the year before. We slept 2 feet away from each other, worked out, danced, wrestled, argued, took turns beating off, and giggled like 8 year old brothers the entire deployment. He’s a huge guy, 6 foot 4, and 225 pounds of muscle, with a chiseled face and blue eyes. He’s so goddamn handsome he looks like he belongs on a Marine Corps recruiting poster. He played tight end for the Packers for a minute before he realized that he really didn’t care about football as much as everyone else. So he quit, and a few months later joined the Marine Corps.
Nick and I hugged it out and caught up on what we had missed during the last few months of combat. He talked me through the suicide attacks that happened just outside base a month before. The Taliban tried killing the local Afghan Police Chief, Commander Koka, with a coordinated attack consisting of seven guys. One guy detonated his suicide vest too soon and missed the target, taking out one of his Taliban buddies. Talk about an air ball. A few other shitheads followed after the blast with AKs, just in time for Commander Koka to pull out his pistol and shoot two of them. When Koka ran out of ammo, another suicide bomber ran in and detonated close enough to put Koka in a coma. The rest of the Taliban attackers were shot by the Afghan Police who finally pulled their thumbs out of each others asses and started defending their country. I actually watched some of this happen on the screens in the Command Center tent on my patrol base. All I could see were the suicide vest explosions and RPGs being shot at the medevac helicopters. It’s funny, you see the best and most realistic war movies in combat…
We looked out Nick’s window and he showed me where everything went down. He told me which officers kept their shit together and behaved like Marines, and which officers behaved like despicable little bitches. He re-enacted the way a couple of the pussies responded and we had a good laugh.
The way a Marine conducts himself under stress will dictate his reputation for his entire career as a Marine, so it’s kind of important to not be a bitch.
We laughed for a while, caught up on each others lives, I demanded he name his son after me, he declined, then I went to visit a few other buddies before the brief.
After chow I headed to the confirmation brief, where my Company Commander was going to show the Battalion Staff his tactical brilliance, and the Battalion Staff was going to show Kilo Company how they were going to support us while we tried to step on cockroaches in Zamindawar.
By the I arrived at the confirmation room I had been fucking around with old friends for several hours, so I was feeling very silly, and very arrogant.
The confirmation room looked like the same scene that Hollywood has depicted a million times. A high ranking guy stands at the front of a room, next to a white screen with a powerpoint presentation, briefing the plan for a mission, and all the lower ranking guys sit around listening. Except this scene was much more comical.
Against good judgment, I took a seat at the very back of the room, behind a pillar. From behind my pillar, I had absolutely no view of anything. This was an intentional and childish act of both comedy, and defiance. I knew my buddies would laugh, and I knew that I was saying to every person in that room, “I don’t give a fuck about anything that will be said here at this brief.” I sat straight up with my notepad out, staring intently at the pillar that was two feet in front of me as if it was teaching me something important.
If I haven’t already made it clear, I was a terrible Officer.
Every Lieutenant I knew who walked in the room and saw me sitting behind the pillar began laughing. One Lieutenant said “Wow, Donny. Still fucking off. Love it.”
I kept my act up as my Company Commander walked in. He looked at me and said, “Jesus, O’Malley do you have to make It that obvious?” He shook his head in disgust and continued walking to his seat at the table.
I acted confused, “I don’t know what you’re talking about sir.” He just shook his head and ignored me. He knew I was being a jackass, and I think a part of him wanted to laugh, and part of him wanted to punch me in the face; but as my boss he couldn’t do either. Plus, my childish behavior in front of all the other Officers in the room reflected poorly on him as my Commander.
I placed my map on the bench next to me, intending to hold the seat for Nick. To my surprise, some Major I didn’t know walked up to the bench, picked up the map, and sat down beside me.
Officer's get a bad rap because some of them think their rank gives them privileges that extend beyond their command, and his guy looked like one of those Officers.
He looked like a hardass, but I was indifferent to his rank and demeanor. By this point in the deployment my body was so broken, I knew that if I survived and made it back home, I wasn't going to be a Marine much longer. This, combined with extreme arrogance, made me an even more terrible Officer. So when a hardass looking Major that I didn't know took my buddy's seat, I was so annoyed I lost my sense of rank and tact. I looked down at the spot that was just two seconds ago guarded by my map. Then I leaned towards him and looked him in the eyes with a very annoyed look on my face.
“Excuse me, someone is sitting there, the map in your hands was holding his place.” I looked him right in his eyes and said it almost aggressively.
He looked confused and embarrassed and remorseful all at the same time. I'm sure he never had a Lieutenant speak to him with that tone, and he wasn’t mentally prepared to chew me out.
“Oh, uhh, ok” He got up quickly and looked around, although he could have just scooted down.
“Can I have my map back?”
He handed me my map.
“Thank you, sir.” I said "sir" with disdain. He could tell.
He squirreled away and found another seat.
Two seconds later I saw something that made my jaw open so wide it almost dislocated, made my eyes pop out of my sockets, and made my dick jump from 6 to 12. A blonde, blue eyed, civilian, FEMALE. She was without a doubt the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Either that, or I was just painfully horny….I’d bet on the latter. I followed her with wide eyes and an open jaw as she walked to her seat. She sat on the left side of the room, giving me a perfect view of her luscious little body. I tried hard to avoid blatantly staring, so in the interest of being less creepy, I peered out of the corner of my eye. I felt my heart rate rise, my blood pressure go up, and heard my dick yelling at me from under my pants, “YOU BETTER MAKE SOME FUCKIN MAGIC HAPPEN DONNY! I NEEEEEED THAT PUSSY!”
I waved him off and said, “shut the fuck up, dick. Go away! We’ll talk later!”
He said, “FU---“ and then I pressed my legs together and shut him up.
I realized that if I didn’t get my shit together I was going to be crippled by the primitive urge to inseminate that blonde in a porta potty. I used all the discipline in my body to put her out of mind and pretend like she didn’t exist. It worked, for a short period of time. Fortunately Nick walked in at that very second.
I got giddy and slapped my hand on the empty bench next to me and waved to him like I was a high school girl.
“Wow, nice seat bro. You got the best view in the house,” Nick said.
“Yeah, aren’t you jealous?”
“Kind of, actually.”
“ATTENTION ON DECK,” someone yelled.
We all stood up at attention as the Battalion Commander walked in.
“At ease Marines,” the Battalion Commander said. We all sat down.
The brief began, and almost instantly people began falling asleep. I laughed to myself as I looked at all the faces around the room. Some looked serious, some looked annoyed, some looked skeptical, some looked confused, some looked comatose.
I looked entertained. I looked like the hyper kid with ADHD in 5th grade who was always moving around and doing stupid things to get attention.
The meeting was run by Major Dyce, the Battalion Operations Officer, who, in the opinion of every single Marine in the battalion, was a belt-fed-fucking retard. I don’t say that as a joke, I used to nanny for an autistic boy in college, and I worked with disabled children after college, and I’m certain Major Dyce had Asperger’s. Major Dyce wore a mustache that has only been worn by two men in all of history; Hitler and Charlie Chaplain. His cartoon character stash served as comedic relief to everyone who saw it, despite the fact that the Battalion Commander banned mustaches in the battalion. Apparently, once you hit Major, higher orders don't matter.
I actually had incredible respect for what he was able to accomplish, because he must have worked his ass off to become the first Marine Officer with autism.
The meeting went on. These are the types of things that were discussed in the meeting.
“If one helicopter goes down, we will do this (Insert retarded plan here)”
“If you run out of water on day 2, we will do this______”
“If the first wave of helicopters comes under fire during insert we will do this ____”
“If we lose comm with you at any point, we will do this _____”
And so on.
All important shit, but everything was done half-ass. It was as if they were doing bare minimum planning just to put a check in the box, without thinking about what it would ACTUALLY be like to be a grunt on the ground doing the things that they were talking about. The plan for a downed helicopter was especially stupid and made me angry. Everyone in the room knew it was stupid, everyone was thinking about the same thing, and yet despite the knowledge that several helicopters went down each month, no one else said a word about the downed helicopter plan that made no sense. I scooted out from behind my pillar and asked a question about the plan that clearly indicated it was a stupid plan.
Major Dyce tried explaining the plan, attempting to make it sound less stupid, but he kept stepping on his own tongue. I actually felt bad and worried for a second that he was going to lose his shit and start banging his head against the wall. He sounded so stupid the Battalion Commander had to save him.
“Well, it sounds like we need to do some work on the downed helicopter plan, lets re-attack that tomorrow morning at the terrain model and move on for now,” said the BC.
Brilliant Leadership.
As we sat there during the brief, I pretended to take diligent notes. What I was actually doing, was writing the same thing that I wrote in my notepad during every combat order I had ever received, since the beginning of my Marine Corps training. I wrote the words,
“PLEASE FUCK ME IN MY ASS IN THE PORTA POTTY” in big letters on the page of my notebook. I elbowed Nick and gave him a serious look, then used my pen to tap on the words in my notebook to direct his attention to my notepad.
As soon as he registered my words he bit his bottom lip hard and looked at the ground, using all the strength and discipline he had as a Marine not to crack up laughing. Just seeing his response, combined with my love for my own jokes, required me to do the same thing to prevent myself from laughing hysterically.
Nick must have seen me do that joke at least a dozen times over two years, but I got him every time.
In need of someone else to fuck with, I leaned to my right and did the exact same thing to the Lieutenant next to me. I didn’t know him well, and had never done it to him before, plus he wasn’t a grunt like Nick and I. As soon as he registered the words he lost his shit and had to fake a coughing fit to disguise his laughter. I tried to look serious because most of the eyes in the room were aimed in our direction.
“Are you ok bro?” I asked the Lieutenant.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
The Battalion Commander took charge and made a quick decision. He said boldly,
“Drink some water Lieutenant.”
“I will sir, thank you sir,” the Lieutenant replied.
The BC wrote himself up for a NAM.
The brief continued.
When he was done coughing and sipping water he showed me his notebook. He had tally marks on his paper because he was keeping a tally of how many times Major Dyce said the word “UHHHHHHHHHH” while briefing. He was at 46 times and he had been speaking for 6 minutes.
That’s actually very impressive for someone with Asperger’s.
Next came the news from Major Dyce that woke us all up;
“Uhhhhh, well, uhhhhh, we have one slight situation that we are currently working on. Uhhhhh. The, uhhhhh, closest Shock Trauma Platoon at FOB (Forward Operating Base) Eddie is running low on all blood types except A-, and the medevac helicopters are in direct support of 1st Battalion 2nd Marines because they have a large clearing operation going on right now in the Kajaki District. But we are working on this to make sure that we support Kilo Company with everything they need. But the mission WILL GO AS PLANNED.”
Every single pair of eyebrows in that room was raised as high as they could go. Everyone in Kilo Company, which was 5 Officers and our aircraft controller, searched the room to make eye contact with each other. All of our eyes found at least one other pair of Kilo Company eyes, and without saying a word, we all heard the same words in our heads, “Holy shit we are all REALLY going to die this time.”
Nick leaned over and whispered in my ear “Nice knowin’ ya buddy. I’ll be sure to tell your family you died dishonorably.”
I leaned in his ear, “thank you, they would have wanted it that way.”
I turned to look forward, then I leaned back into his ear, “you know what, fuck it bro, I’m droppin’ bombs on everything this time. If I’m gonna’ die I’m goin’ out with a lotta KIA’s.”
“Please take me with you,” Nick whispered.
“Sorry bro, need you to stay back and watch the fort, besides your much more valuable to the USA here.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m sorry that was mean. I’ll take pictures for you.”
“Fuck your pictures” he said, leaning forward. I could tell he was hurt, he loved action and hated being behind the wire, just like I did at the beginning of my deployment. I knew his pain.
We went back to pretending to listen to the inspiring logistics brief, and I stopped fucking around. I got serious, REAL serious, because I could no longer ignore the only blonde woman in the Helmand Province.
When she first entered the room, my initial thought was “what…..the…..fuck? Who? why? How? How.......do I put my dick in her?”
Then I thought to myself “Don’t even fucking look at her Donny, it’s not worth it, you’re gonna get creepy and stare, and she’s gonna catch you, and shit’s gonna get weird. So don’t even look in her direction.”
I took my own advice, and I did a pretty decent job ignoring her, until this point in the meeting. I had no one to fuck with anymore, my jokes were old, and the only thing I could think about was finding a dark place on base to fuck this blonde girl without getting caught.
To this day I don’t know anything about her, nor why she was there. I think she was a part of the District Stability Team, which is a civilian job held by a person with the purest heart; full of good intentions, and dead-set on risking their life while saving the world, one shit-hole at a time.
She looked to be in her mid-twenties, she had bright blonde hair that I desperately wanted to smell, big cold blue eyes, the most perfect skin I had ever seen, rosy cheeks, white teeth, and plump lips. Her body looked perfectly curved. Her boobs looked to be at least a full B, her butt had some jiggle to it, and I imagined she had just the right moves. She looked oddly young to me, as if she was in Afghanistan to receive elective credit for her “Sustainable Agriculture” minor.
In San Diego, she would have been a 6 at best. As a matter of fact I probably would not have given her a second glance unless I’d had at least a half a fifth of whipped vodka…..
But because she was in Afghanistan, because I hadn’t seen a woman without a veil in months, because I didn’t know that blondes even existed in Afghanistan, because I had watched all the porns on my computer at least 1000 times, and because I was terribly, painfully, blisteringly horny; she was the most beautiful woman in the entire world. Only a man who has been deployed could possibly understand what I felt for this woman at that moment. She was, quite simply, an angel. I was so fascinated by the sight of her that it made me uncomfortable, it made my hands sweat. I felt like a child molester in the center of the ballpit at Chucky Cheese. I caught myself staring at her for minutes at a time. I stared at her and saw a vision of us twirling in a circle in the middle of a poppy field, madly in love. I had a vision of us making out somewhere on the base, possibly in the little tree line near the creek, by the food storage containers; at night, when no one else was around. I imagined her lips were the softest things on the planet. Her tongue was bubbly and sloppy.
Then, clear as day, like it had just happened, I saw my dick in her mouth. It looked like a perfect fit.
Never in my own experience, nor in any porn, nor between any couple, has a dick ever looked so beautiful in a woman’s mouth than mine did in hers, right there in that room, in my imagination. I closed my eyes and the vision became more real for me. I saw her look up at me with her big cold blue eyes. Her eyes were magical and I got lost in them for a minute. I imagined being on a spaceship in the galaxy of her retina, I kept making my spaceship do backflips. My dream zoomed out of her retina and we were magically transformed back into the poppy field. It was a beautiful day, with a light breeze, and a few clouds to make the sky more pretty. The poppy in this field was much higher than normal, providing us adequate cover for a midday blowjob. I looked all around me and took in my surroundings. I smiled, I was in heaven. I’m not religious, but at that moment, God existed, because only he could have created the heaven I was in.
All of a sudden I heard classical music. I looked down and she was smiling at me. She looked so happy to have my dick in her mouth. It was almost as if she had been craving it for the entire deployment, and now that she had it in her mouth, her soul was fulfilled more than God himself had ever fulfilled it. I felt like fate had brought us together, I smiled at her; she started giggling/gagging as I petted her hair. Then the music got louder and started to sound familiar. I strained to hear it, then I figured out who was singing to me. It was Andrea Bocelli, and he was singing “Con Te Partiro” to me…… to us. My dick went in and out of her mouth romantically slowly; to the rhythm of Andre’s magnificent voice. I had never made passionate love to a woman’s face before (I’d only fucked face), but I guess when you’re in heaven, that happens. It looked like this, play the song and follow along;
(Slide in slowly) Co-oooooooon teeeeeeeeeee
(Slide out slowly) paaaaaartiròooooooooooooo
(Slide in slowly) paaaesiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
(Slide out quick) che
(Slide in quick) non
(Slide out quick) ho
(Slide in slow and pet her hair) maiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
Suddenly the breeze picked up and blew a poppy plant into my left side. Then the plant leaned into my rib cage a little harder.
Then I woke up from my daydream and realized that it wasn’t a poppy plant, it was Nick, elbowing me in my side. I turned and looked at him with a very angry look on my face. My dream was going wonderfully. I was royally pissed that he took me out of it before I busted my nut.
He leaned in to my ear and said,
“Dude you have no fucking idea what a creep you look like right now. I’m not kidding. If I was her I’d run out of this room right now and accuse you of sexual assault with your eyes. Really dude, comon. Have some respect man, that's not cool for her.”
At that moment I should have felt shame. But I didn’t, instead I felt sadness, because I wished my brother was there to see me. No one else on earth has caught me creeping more than my brother has, and coincidentally, no one else finds it more amusing when I get caught in creeper mode, than my little brother.
First I felt lonely missing my brother, then I became ashamed of my behavior, then magically, thanks to my ADHD, both emotions were gone, and I focused back on the angel.
I knew I had to stop staring, and I did, kind of. But I made a promise to myself that I was not going to leave the District Center without knowing how this angel’s hair smelled.
Allow me to explain.
Since arriving in Afghanistan I went the first month without a shower, I slept in a tent filled with a powerful odor of sweat, balls, socks, and farts. I had patrolled through sopping wet manure laden poppy fields that were being irrigated as we walked through them. I had smelled rotting, burnt, and bleeding Afghan bodies, spent ammunition, homemade explosives, blown IED’s, truck exhaust, dead animals, live animals and the shitholes they lived in, a constant waft of human shit, a constant waft of human piss, the piles of chicken shit I slept in because they were softer than the ground, and the bottom line was; seeing that girl’s shiny blonde hair made something deep within in my soul ache to smell it.
I wasn’t going ANYWHERE, until I smelled her hair.
The meeting finished, and I spoke to no one. My demeanor was completely different. I was a man on a mission. I sat in my seat and watched everyone leave, but I focused on HER.
She took forever because she was busy talking with senior officers about “Afghan Stability” or some other lame bullshit. I’d bet a paycheck that both those officers were thinking the same thing I was thinking. Fuckers.
Finally she began to walk out of the briefing room and I jumped out of my seat to get as close to her as possible. I was too late, there were two stinky Marine Officers between me and her. I took a big breathe in the hopes I’d get a hint of something. I got nothing.
I thought for a second that I was a fool for assuming she smelled good. After all, we were in the boonies of Afghanistan.
My soul wouldn’t let me hold on to that thought. Something inside me told me that her hair smelled magical. I stayed close behind her as I walked, then all of sudden she stopped and started talking to some fucking dork. I walked right past her and the dork and took a deep breath through my nostrils, but didn’t time my breathing right so I was too late. I got nothing.
I kept walking out the door, because anything else would have looked really weird. I stood outside and pondered whether or not I should go back for another olfactory resupply and risk looking like a complete dumbass, or if I should just go to the bathroom and beat off so I could think straight. I decided that it was absolutely worth looking like a dumbass for the chance to be in the same room with that girl and smel her hair. I gathered up my courage and walked back inside; she was facing me, so I couldn’t be too creepy. I casually walked passed her, but not too close, and took a deep breathe. I thought I got a tiny hint of something fruity. It gave me hope. It filled my heart with joy. I knew it was all worth it, but I wasn’t satisfied.
I kept walking and turned the corner, headed back to the briefing room. With no better ideas, I leaned against the wall next to the briefing room, and pretended to read my notebook. I creepily peeked around the corner and saw her in the same spot talking to the same dork. I took two deep breaths in, then slowly began exhaling. I made my move and walked right towards her backside, my eyes focused intently on her hair. I thought I saw a halo around her head. The dork she was talking to could see everything I was doing, and I'm certain he became afraid of me, because when I’m on point, I’m that fucking creepy. Just when I got close enough I slowed my step and took the biggest breathe I have ever taken in my life. My nostrils filled with a thousand fruits, my heart sang “Hallelujah,” my dick went from 6 to 12, and I instantly had a few images of shampoo commercials in my head. Pantene Pro-V, Head and Shoulders, and Herbal Essences. I saw a girl in the shower washing her hair and screaming “YES YES YES YES!” Then I saw myself slamming the blonde girl from behind in a porta potty with her screaming “YES YES YES YES!”
And with that thought, I didn’t miss a single stride. I walked my happy ass straight to the porta potty and held my breathe for as long as I could with the image of her face and the smell of her fruity hair fresh in my mind. I squeezed my eyes closed and ignored the powerful burning stench of fresh hot shit, I ignored the fact that inside the porta potty was probably 130 degrees, and I ignored the sounds of dozens of people outside as I jerked my dick into a hot oblivion. I tried to go back to the poppy field image, but this time the poppy wasn’t as tall, it was dry and dying, and the sun was burning my skin. I tried to hear the sounds of Andrea Bocelli singing my orgasm to completion, but he was singing off tune, and he kept forgetting the words. Finally I imagined her sitting on the porta potty begging me to cum on her face, and with that thought, I blew all over it.
When my orgasm subsided and I stopped grunting to myself, I came out of my dream and the image of her sitting on the porta potty with my cum all over her face disappeared. Reality hit me really hard. I took in a waft of fresh, hot, shit. I looked down at the toilet and saw three feet of steaming human feces. I looked down at my dick. He was black and blue and he looked like he was crying. He looked up and me and said,
“What’s your fucking problem dude? Don’t you remember the fucking safeword? You’re a fucking dick.”
I tried to apologize but it was no use. Poor little guy. I choked his fucking brains out by mistake, and I'm not even into choking.
I looked down at my legs, I was sweating so much it looked like I was in the shower. I held my right hand up and looked at it with dismay. I was thoroughly disgusted with myself. I was disgusted with everything about me; my smell, my look, my thoughts the last few hours, my behavior, everything. Disgusting. I hated me and was repulsed by me. I took a deep breath in preparation for a depressing sigh and the stench of fresh, hot, shit punched me in the nose and I almost vomited. It was time to go.
I cleaned up with hand sanitizer, got dressed, slung my rifle back over my shoulder and exited the wooden porta potty. With one breath of relatively fresh air outside the porta potty, I felt better about my life. After I was 50 feet away from the porta potties, smelling significantly cleaner air by Afghan standards, I began to love myself again.
As I walked back to my room with my head down, avoiding all eye contact, and feeling a strong sense of shame, I was still hesitant to allow myself to fall madly in love with myself again, but after hearing a group of Marines talk about how to fuck goats in a somewhat serious manner, I realized that there was no need to be ashamed. I was just being a Marine; and besides, I got to smell the scent of an angel.