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by the absence of decency, these repiglicans illustrate the gulf between repiglicans and decent people. i wonder what santorum would've done if he'd gone through basic training with me?
The Soldier in the Shower
The first day of the rest of our lives, the Drill Sergeant puts us through hard, punishing hours of running, push-ups, crawling in mud, sand, more push-ups, more double time, and more push-ups. Day One of Basic Combat Training at Ft. Ord, 1969.
The second floor platoon bay echoes with cries from pained to outraged. I look forward to a long, hot shower. But by the time I get to the latrine, all ten shower heads are occupied. I walk to the far end and let the spray from the others bathe me. I feel the sweat and grit begin to wash away.
“Oh, god, look, he’s got a boner!” I turn to see, and sure enough, the guy two showers over has an erection.
“Hey, come on, guys, I’m not excited, it always looks like that!”
Quickly, the shower room empties. Some mutter ugly threats, others just rinse off and hurry out of the shower. I step under the hot water of a newly vacated shower and make eye contact with the naked guy whose dick stands straight out. “Oh, no, you’re not excited,” I laugh at him, then ask, “What’s your name?” He tells me. “Good to meet you, name,” I say.
He stands two shower heads away so we do not shake hands. “You’re not afraid?” he asks me.
“Not me, why should I be?”
“Look, I don’t have a hard-on, my thing just points this way.”
“Whatever,” I reply. “Where you from?” Turns out the boy has dropped out of junior college after having trouble in the academic courses. He is a musician--trumpet--and wants to finish Basic Training and get into an Army band. “You’re a musician, eh? Here’s one for you…” and I give my best baritone rendition of a song, “Give me some men who are stout-hearted men and I’ll soon give you ten thousand more…”
“No, no, that’s two different verses.” And he sings the lyric correctly, at full voice. After this we do (loudly) some Gilbert & Sullivan (I am the captain of the queen’s navie…), the Indian Love Song (I am calling youuuuuu…). He knows all the words, I know the first lines of most of them. The grand finale is “You’re in the Army now, you’re not behind a plow, you’re digging a ditch, you son of bitch, you’re in the Army now.”
Thereafter, when he comes into the shower, the other guys all rinse off and leave. Eventually we form a trio, me, him, and another “don’t ask don’t tell” GI of that day.
We have the gang shower all to ourselves. We get uncrowded showers to wash the Army off our bodies and our M-14 rifles (best way to get your weapon inspection clean), singing old standards and military marching songs.
Them, their hearts were young and gay. Me, I was a little older but still young.
mvs
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