Warning! Offensive Material Inside
All y’alls,
I've had lots to ponder these past few days, or is it weeks? The concept of time is lost on me know. We measure our days not by the weekend but by meal times. It's very weird - and I'll write an update about that soon also.
Please forgive me if many of you do not find these topics appropriate. I think they are an indicator of some of the young Soldiers deployed to a war zone. Proceed with caution.
Boredom & stress relief
Warning: this section contains (probably) offensive material which some readers might not find appropriate. I on the other hand see it as an extension of the deployment and would suggest to those with a delicate constitution to skip this section. If you continue to read, please do not hold me responsible for any offense taken to this “personal” observation. Sections Candy & me and Experiment #2 are more palatable. I’ll give you ample warningwhen the descriptions become more personal in nature.
Just as in the US, those of us deployed to a war zone get stressed out, some more so than others. I suggest that stress in a war zone is more acute because of the long work hours and sense of being locked down – not just physically but also mentally and sometimes emotionally. Back home there’s a multitude of options by which one can decompress. Over here we have very few. There are no bars – or alcohol in general, no loved ones from whom we can get a hug, no driving aimlessly around, no “retail therapy” because the PX, local bazaar or even internet shopping just don’t suffice (PX because of the lack of options), no girlfriends you can cry with or buddies with whom you can shoot pool. There’s no dinner and a movie (the DFAC & your computer don’t count), no trails to run, no fishing, hunting or camping. You can’t walk your dog, work in your back yard, go for a bike ride, etc. However, there are a few ways Soldiers deal with stress that deserve attention.
Lots of us over here get involved in religious services, play video games, take classes, lift weights or run. Unfortunately, a fair number of my comrades have begun to “eat” their way through the deployment either by gorging on too much food, eating ice cream with every lunch & dinner, attacking the table of sweets too often or overdosing on Mountain Dew or other sugary sodas. Again, we all deal with stress our own way through church, food, working out, video games, and even sex.
Yes dear readers, Soldiers are now legally allowed to have sex while deployed. Naturally some restrictions apply – one cannot have sex with a supervisor or subordinate, married Soldiers can have sex with only their spouse (some couples deploy together), one cannot have sex with someone of the same gender, and officers cannot have sex with enlisted members and vice versa. Are all these rules followed? Are you kidding? Of course not – men are pigs and women who you wouldn’t give a second glance to stateside are suddenly “Combat 10’s” (more on the rating scheme later).
Women, who as a gender are often short changed in the military, are the fortunate ones when deployed. No, not every guy is a horn dog and wants to get laid, but enough are, so women on deployment usually have their pick – or can sample as many as they want, if they want to at all. And some of them do. This is my third deployment so I think I speak from experience, my own, personal, experience. Others might not have experienced the same situations as I and might disagree. I do not dispute your experiences – I just ask you to respect mine.
The Army is a multi-ethnic institution composed of men and women from several countries and ethnicities. As a matter of fact, today I met a US Soldier from Nigeria on his first deployment. On each of my deployments I’ve deployed with Latinos, Blacks, Caucasians, Indians, Asians, and a few others of undetermined race, creed and origin. Each time I’ve deployed my organization (either my immediate group or the overall unit) has had a few women and men who demand special attention. I mean that in two ways – their sexual antics call attention to themselves and the individuals are much easier to tolerate if they’re allowed to get laid. With that being said, I’d like to introduce you to Carmen.
Warning – offensive material follows
Carmen is a Latina – each of my deployments has had a Latina who needed her “fill.” She’s nice enough to look at, even by stateside standards. She can be sweet and demure, loud and sassy, professional and respectful, easy-going and fun. Guys flock to Carmen because she’s been around the block and learned how to use what she has to get what she wants. And believe me, Carmen wants a lot.
Carmen is one of those people whom you want to get laid because she’s much easier to deal with. Most guys in our organization are smart enough to avoid “taking one for the team” and I’ve heard of no one who has strayed into her poo-nanny playground, but I know some have been invited. That’s cool and all – honestly, I don’t care one bit with whom someone has sex, unless of course it’s a supervisor / subordinate thing. That’s not cool in any organization military or civilian. But our dear sweet Carmen needs to find another venue by which she can work out her stress. I’m afraid her vagina will resemble tire tread from a back country Ford Ranger if she doesn’t slow down. Not that I care what her poon resembles, but for the love of Mary: Carmen, if you don’t want your uterus dragging behind you like a 70’s circa crotchet purse by the time you’re 40 you had better find a suitable alternative. Take up needlepoint or Sudoku for crying out loud.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Carmen, she gets her work done, is entertaining, and if you need something which is nearly impossible to procure, nine times out of ten Carmen has a connection. If she was a guy she’d be a hero to whom other guys would look up and try to emulate, but with our societal double standard, let’s just say she’s not emulated. I however applaud her. If I had a “little girl” I’d also feed her as much candy as she wanted, just so long as her teeth didn’t rot.
In the interest of gender equality let me introduce you to Jack. Jack is a guy I knew from a previous deployment (he’s not here now) – and his method of stress relief was similar to Carmen’s. He’s a typical young guy, whose veins through which cruised an abnormal amount of testosterone. There were enough women to hit on but he usually got no attention. With no bars to drink in, football to play, or trails to run, Jack worked out his aggression the most primitive way possible – he “jacked off.”
Jack was a bit of a metro-sexual – which means he cared about his appearance more than guys of past generations. Oh, he liked girls – the more the better, but I don’t think Jack got that much play. He’s a plain looking guy, and was the guy who goes to a bar and exudes the whole “I need to get laid” vibe. He goes home empty handed, but in Jack’s case his hand was rarely empty. That guy beat his meat like it owed him money.
Yeah, Jack liked to masturbate and was not afraid to talk about it. His carefree description was somewhat endearing – there was always Jack to tease. Nowhere was sacred to him – I bet he’d even toss off during church services if he could get away with it. Jack revealed some of his locations – and I’m thankful because it let me know where and what to avoid. Port-a-Johns, shower stalls, bathroom stalls, guard tower, bunker (the thing we run to when there’s a mortar attack), in all of our Humvees, in his sleeping bag, and lastly, out in the open at night when it’s pitch black. I don’t think there was anyplace that guys seed hadn’t been sprayed. He even told us how he was caught one time in the office late at night by a female supervisor and just kept at it (We had a thorough day of cleaning the office once that revelation came to light).
I guess ya gotta give the guy an A for concentration and perseverance. Good thing masturbation doesn’t have an “exfoliating” side affect. If it did, Jack would’ve returned home with a nub instead of a penis. The more Jack told us the more concerned I was anytime I had to shake his hand or take anything from him. I made sure to keep a bottle of hand sanitizer on me at all times.
