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From: "Jane Urquhart" <janey98@hotmail.com>
Subject: JANEY'S MAY (FM cons)
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WARNING: This is a story for adults. If you are under 18, please
stop reading immediately.



This story may be archived on free web sites but is not to be
distributed without the name of the author, changed in any way,
or sold. Please do not re-post without consulting the author.
Copyright 1998 by Jane Urquhart.



NOTE: Innocent readers who are not familiar with the authors who
post often on the ASSD newsgroup may find parts of this story a
bit mystifying. Not a lot of sex, either, but some. So read at
your own peril.



DEDICATION:  Teresa, one of our gentle reviewers, said she read
Sandman's "Aces" to see what women are going to be doing in the
future. Her findings: "Let's see--we can cook, wait patiently
for our man to arrive home, look good in a bikini or other
clothes, smile, and be charming."  But my dear! Those are merely
a few of our accomplishments. So this story is for Teresa. 





JANEY'S MAY (FM cons)



by Janey





	For some reason, I was feeling out of sorts a good part of May,
and  just didn't feel like writing a story.  Then I had this
dream . . . . 

	

					----------------



	I woke up and tried to turn my head to look around. Couldn't.
Looked straight ahead. Hmmm. My left leg appeared to be in a
cast, in traction. Kind of hazy, but I figured I must be in a
hospital. Yellow walls with grey doors. Machinery. Could be
worse, I thought. Tried to move my right arm. Couldn't. But I
could move my fingers, and I felt the edge of another cast.
Well, damn. It WAS worse. But still not as bad as it could get.
Moved the fingers of  my left hand. OK. Moved my left arm
down--a little. It seemed to be stuck on something. I moved my
left arm up to touch my face. Good; it wouldn't move down, but
at least it moved up. Better than nothing. Face o.k., something
on my head. Thought to wiggle the toes of  the leg in traction.
They wiggled. I moved my right leg, lifted it off the bed and
looked at it. Seemed o.k.. Good. 



	Summary: Neck problem of some sort. Right arm in a cast. Face
apparently intact. Left arm moved up and a little sideways, but
not down. Left leg in traction, but toes move.

	

	Checked for pain. Nothing. Good dope, I guessed. Things still
looked a little hazy, and my head kind of buzzed, steadily, but
it could be worse. I decided I must have run out of dumb luck.

	

	Now when you find yourself in the hospital all trussed up,
you're going to begin to wonder just what put you there. And how
soon you're going to get out.

	

	I decided to wonder about those things. I saw a calendar on the
wall dead ahead. July 12, 2010. Hadn't been here long, then.
Happy birthday. Haaaapy Birth-day toooo Me! Part of me noticed I
wasn't thinking at lightning speed, or making much sense.

	

	Just then I heard a door open. I could still hear, despite the
buzz. Another plus. Definitely.

	

	A smiling face hung itself in front of me. Cute little nurse.
Didn't trust smiles from a nurse.

	

	"You're with us!" she said.

	

	"I think so," I said. But what came out sounded more like, "Uh
tink oh." So I tried again.

	

	"I think so." Better.

	

	"How many fingers?"

	

	"Three. What about the rest of the guys?"

	

	"Hey, you really are with us!" she said. "Not bad at all. They
tell me you were way out ahead when you got yours. A few of 'em
down the hall, kind of shook up, but nobody really hurt."

	

	"You wouldn't lie. I've known nurses to lie."

	

	"Cross my heart," she said, putting herself back in view.
"See?" She crossed her heart. "Anyway, I'm not a nurse, I'm an
intern--no little hat, right? Interns never lie." 



	Huh. Maybe I'd trust her a little.

	

	She gave me a glass of water, holding it to my lips. It was
good.

	

	"You're a big hero, you know?"

	

	"Naw. I musta made a mistake, or I wouldn't be here, and
neither would they."

	

	She poked her face right up against mine.

	

	"Listen here," she said. "You didn't make any mistakes at all.
Some asshole dropped a bomb on you. Now what can I do for you?"

	

	I glanced at the machines. One of them had a lot of red LEDs on
it.

	

	"What's the reading, over there?" I asked.

	

	"Temp OK, heart OK, respiration OK, and a lot of other things,
all OK," she said.

	

	"I remember now," I said. "I heard him coming in. I remember
wondering where the hell the air cover was. That's all I
remember."

	

	"That's all right," the intern said. "Go to sleep. I'll look
in."

	

	"Thanks."

	

	I woke up later, feeling better. I looked at the calendar--the
haze had gone away.

Head still buzzed a little, but maybe not so bad. Can't
complain, I guessed. Could have been a who-o-o-ole lot worse.

	

	Then I remembered the whole thing.

				

				-----------------------



	I jumped out of the command car. 



	"Thanks, soldier," I said. He was off  like a rocket, back to
headquarters,  where they didn't shoot at you. Much.



	Looking around, I saw troops scattered all over the rocks,
looking confused. Then I noticed a guy with a flexible terrain
map. So I got down low and scuttled over to see if he might have
some idea of what was going on. Fancy that! A live officer. In
clean BDU's. Shaved. New boy.



	"Sergeant Jane MacDonald, Sir," I said. "They sent me to help
you straighten out this mess.  Can you tell me what's up? Who've
we got left?"



	"I'm Lieutenant Ivan," he said. "I've been here an hour, and I
don't know much more than you do. We've got nineteen soldiers
from the First Battalion, mostly from Bravo Company. I thought
they were going to send some people from Alfa Company."



	"Just me," I said. "I'm all that's left. Any non-coms?"



	"Two," he said. "Corporal Kim and Corporal Teresa. A couple of
PFCs. I was talking to some of the guys and they told me Kim is
tough. Teresa is senior--looks to me like she ought to be
decorating a swimming pool, not toting a rifle."



	Oh, great. Another sex-mad lieutenant. Where did they get these
guys?



	"Look, Lieutenant, I guess you haven't been out here too long?"



	"You got it," he said. "I graduated from OCS last week and they
flew me across."



	"Well, I know Kim. I'm surprised she's still with us--figured
she'd get fragged for shooting off her mouth. But she's tough,
all right. I don't know Teresa, so I'll withhold judgment on
that."



	"Yeah," he said, smirking. "The guys told me Kim's famous for
doing weird things with bottles."



	"Only in her spare time, Lieutenant. You have any idea what
we're supposed to do once we get organized?"



	"Well, what I was told was that we have to take a strong point
up high on the side of this hill we're sitting on. A lot of
mortars and maybe a two platoons of infantry. Some staff guy
told me the colonel wants us to march right up and do it."



	"Show me the map, Sir." He handed me the electronic display and
I fiddled with it a couple of minutes until I could see the
situation.



	"That's a very bad idea, Lieutenant. Why don't you get on the
phone and explain what we have here? Try to get 'em to give us a
little leeway."



	"Sure, Sergeant, if you want." He smiled. "I may be dumb, but
at least I know I don't know what's going on."



	He took the field phone out of its case, and I moved across
toward the troops.



	"Corporal Teresa?" I said, raising my voice.



	"Right here, Sergeant." Cute little thing. I saw what the
elltee meant, but that didn't get him promoted up from asshole.



	"OK. Get the troops together, will you?"



	"Fuckin' A, Sergeant," she said. She put her fingers in her
mouth and whistled. I winced. Good soldier, I suspected, but a
little rambunctious. Probably just young. 

	

	I watched the soldiers shambling over. Sorry-looking lot. Oh,
well, you get what you pay for, and Uncle Sam didn't pay for
high quality soldiers these days. Besides, I did have to admit
they'd had a rough forty-eight hours. I knew several of them.
They gathered around.

	

	"OK," I said. "Some of you don't know me. I'm Sergeant Jane
MacDonald, second platoon, Alfa Company. What you are, I regret
to say, is the First Battalion, all of nineteen strong. Every
one of you either has good skills or a lot of dumb luck or you
wouldn't be here. Maybe some of you have both, I don't know. But
we have the dubious honor of being alive and, I guess you could
say, well." 

	

	A shout from the rear. "We know you, Sarge!" Private Losgud.
Heard he's thinking of getting out. Must talk to him--can't lose
good soldiers. If we come out of this talking.

	

	"Shut up, Losgud," I said.

	

	I continued the little speech.



	"The U.S. Army hasn't been clobbered this bad since Kasserine
Pass. But we'll recover."

	

	I heard somebody in the rear saying, "What the fuck is
Kasserine Pass, Bear?"

	

	"Hell, I don't know, DG," Pvt. Bear answered. "You always
expect me to know what's going on. It's probably someplace in
Mexico that somebody shot up a couple of hundred years ago. I've
served with her before--always acts like she's got a military
history book shoved up her ass. Crazy broad. But you better not
fuck with her. She'll tear you apart."

	

	I decided to ignore this nonsense.

	

	"Meanwhile, we have a little problem," I said. "But Lt. Ivan is
over there talking to Colonel Celeste about it. You see up this
little hill we're standing on?" I faced uphill and they turned
to see where I was looking. "Well, you probably can't see
anything, but there's a mortar position sitting up there
overlooking the Second Battalion. The Second is still in pretty
good shape, but they can't move an inch until the mortars are
gone. So the colonel told the elltee to lead us right up the
hill to take that position."

	

	"Sheee-it," said Teresa. "They'll shoot our asses off!"

	

	"I can see that you have the makings of a great tactician,
Corporal, but the colonel, unfortunately, doesn't seem to agree
with you. Or possibly she doesn't value your ass quite as much
as you do. Most likely she doesn't know what the situation is,
since she's not generally considered to be stupid, even if she
does occasionally pull a howler.



	"But the elltee decided to have a little talk with the colonel
to see if he can't get things changed a little."

	

	"The elltee doesn't know his ass from second base!" said
Private first class Proust. "He just got out of OCS last week.
He's a fucking ninety-day wonder!"

	

	"Well," I said, "I think the elltee is pretty smart. He decided
to listen to me."

	

	I could hear murmuring in the ranks.

	

	Pvt. Thrope was lecturing some poor bastard from Bravo
Company--named Watcher, I thought. "All right, she has lousy
taste in men, but she takes good care of her troops, so you
better just fuck off!" The guy looked like she'd hit him with an
axe. Not a really sweet woman, but I agreed with at least two of
her sentiments, so what the hell. Besides, I'd heard she was a
hell of a warrior. The word was that they had to transfer a guy
named Feldspar out of the battaliion to keep her from killing
him. 



	Then I heard Pvt.Watcher whispering to Pvt. Twassel about
self-absorbed women. If they didn't shape up soon they'd be
doing KP the rest of their lives.



	I looked over toward the lieutenant, twenty meters away. He
gave me a thumbs up.



	"All right, boys and girls," I said, raising my voice to stifle
the murmurs. "The elltee has found somebody to give us
permission to do it another way. Cpl. Teresa, you'll be pleased
to know your prayers are answered. Instead of all of us just
walking up there into their guns, you, Corporal, are going to
take four soldiers with you, go around the hill to the left,
climb up and hit the bastards from the right flank.  Teresa,
give us a flare when the shooting starts.  Naismith, take three
others, go up to where you can see the fuckers and hide out.
When the flare goes up, just start throwing in everything you
can to draw fire. The rest of us will circle around the hill,
come up from behind and save your asses. Kim, you stay with me,
guard our rear. Any questions?"



	Just then I saw a burly major headed my way. I called the
troops to attention and saluted him.



	"Sgt. MacDonald, Sir, acting exec of the First Battalion," I
said.



	"I only heard the last part of your op plan, Sergeant," the
major said. "Did I understand you to say you were going to send
a patrol of only five soldiers to attack from the flank, and
four to draw fire?"



	"Yessir," I answered. "That seemed to be the best way to handle
the problem."



	"Well," he said, "it damned well isn't the best way. Don't you
read the field manuals? You'll send at least two three-man fire
teams on each patrol, like the book says."



	"Begging your pardon, Sir, could you tell me who you are?"



	"I'm Major M1ke Hunt of the Regimental staff, Sergeant," he
replied.



	"Yes, Sir, I've heard of you somewhere. Not around here lately,
though. Anyhow, I'm afraid I must respectfully refuse your
order. You're not in the chain of command as far as I'm
concerned, so I think the lieutenant's decision will stand."



	"Sergeant, you're under arrest," he said, his eyes narrowing.
He turned to Teresa. "Corporal, put the sergeant under arrest.
You know who's got the authority here. Me! I'll arrange for a
court martial later."



	Teresa looked at the major for a moment then spat a wad of
ersatz tobacco on the ground about four inches from his left
toe. Obviously, I thought, the lieutenant was wrong--this woman
liked to fight.  But I was going to have to give her a course in
self-control if we survived this fiasco.



	"I don't think I'll do that, Major," she said. "Maybe after we
take the hill. Will that do, sir?"



	"We'll see about that," the major said. "I'll find somebody to
put you all under arrest." He strode off down the hill,
muttering something about "uppity women" and "this man's Army."



	"Fuck you, Major," came from the rear ranks. Sounded like Pvt.
Nick--I didn't even know he could get mad; he was always trying
to pacify things.



	"At ease," I shouted. "If I want to be stupid, that's fine. But
nobody under my command is going to be stupid, you get me?"



	"Suuuure, Sarge," I heard. I couldn't have this. Then I heard,
"Oof!" LeAnna--I thought that was her name--must have poked him
in the ribs. Much better. I just hate to have to break people's
arms to get their attention.



	"OK, Teresa," I said. "We're depending on you. Move out."



	She snapped to attention and saluted like she was at West
Point. "Yes, Ma'am," she said.



	"When you get back, remind me to confine you to quarters,
Teresa," I said.



	She grinned. "OK, come on you guys, we're outta here." She
motioned to Twassel and he lurched after her, trying to say
something about not understanding. Then a soldier I hadn't met,
some kind of Slavic name and the cleanest, neatest guy I'd seen
since the shit hit the fan, came swaggering over. He was
followed by Private Sandman and Private EZ.



	"OK, Naismith, you, Kristen, Delta and Kitty move out, fast.
That's full speed ahead, to you."



	"Aye, aye, Sergeant," he said, and he and the rest started
scrambling up the hill. Crazy bastard claimed he used to be in
the Navy. If  he was, I bet he was your typical sea lawyer. But
he'd fight.



	That left twelve of us, counting me and the elltee.



	"We got maybe half an hour to kill," I told them. "Might as
well take it easy." It was hot. I sat down where I was and
wrestled my canteen out of its shell. Got in the habit of
filling it with red wine when we were fighting the Frogs. Tough
bastards, and they sure knew their wine. Anyhow, being a little
lit at this point was going to be a definite asset. We were just
going to take a strong point with nineteen raggedy-ass, worn out
losers, that's all. The lieutenant came over and sat down by me.



	"I got headquarters," he said, "and I could have sworn some
major named Cyrhh was ordering us to charge right up the hill,
but they were breaking up so much I couldn't really make out
what she said. I think she must have been telling us to do it
the best way we could."



	"You did good, Lieutenant," I said. "Who taught you to follow
the rules so carefully?"



	"Oh, there was this old Sergeant Sven--funny name for an
Irishman--he taught us tactics at OCS. Said most of the time you
have to figure it out for yourself. So I thought if you said
this was the way to do it, and he said sometimes you're on your
own, this was no time to screw around."



	"Well," I said, "sometimes it's better to do it first, then ask
permission."



	Thirty minutes went by fast. I struggled to my feet, batting
forty pounds of equipment into place.



	"On your feet, troops," I said. "I'll take the point. The rest
of you follow along, and keep an eye on the lieutenant. I don't
want anything at all to happen to him, and if it does I'll have
your asses. You in particular, See-El, you take care of him.
Understand?"



	I headed up the hill, to my left. The lieutenant stayed back
with the troops, the way he was supposed to. I remember thinking
he might do all right after I got him trained. There was enough
of a trail to make it an easy walk around, but I figured I'd
better avoid that, so I veered about fifteen meters to the left.
The rest of the guys let me get about twenty meters ahead, then
straggled along after me.



	We were about halfway around the hill when I heard the jet
coming in. I wondered where the fucking flyboys were this time.



	"Down, you assholes," I shouted. Then there was this flash of
white light. Next thing I know I'm lying in this fucking bed.
Bad scene.



					------------



	Here came the intern again.



	"Hello, sweetie," she said, "how you doin'?"



	"Nobody called me sweetie in a hell of a long time," I said.
"What's your name, Lieutenant?"



	"I'm Lieutenant Taria," she said. "I came to see if you needed
anything."



	"Yes, Ma'am, I do," I said. "Do you know what happened out
there after I got zapped?"



	"Skip the Ma'am stuff, Sergeant," she said. "Just call me
Taria. OK. The way I understand it you were supposed to get rid
of some mortars, right? Well, after you got hit, Cpl. Kim took
over and Pvt. Crossgrove picked you up and carried you the rest
of the way up the hill. I told him you are NOT the heaviest
woman in the universe, you're just right for your height.
Anyhow, the attack went off just the way you planned. 



	"Cpl. Teresa had the place pretty well cleaned out by the time
the rest of your troops got there. She's going to get a medal,
and naturally Lt. Ivan will get the Silver Star, because he was
in charge. Somebody said the colonel's going to get a medal,
too, but I don't know that for sure. You're getting a Purple
Heart, of course, but I don't know what else. Maybe Dr. Hayden
will know. He'll be around pretty soon."



	"He any good?" I asked. I had already wondered how I was going
to stay on the battalion swimming team with a game leg.



	"He's an absolutely great surgeon," she said, "but watch out!
He flirts with every female patient we get. He'll take a bullet
out of your ass at midnight and in the morning he's around to
examine your boobs. Can't trust the man at all. He thinks
politically correct is to vote Democratic. He's got this real
nice grin, and half the women fall for him. Then he's off to the
next, of course."



	"Sounds like my kind of guy," I said.



	"If he gives you any trouble, let me know, and I'll go straight
to Gen. Bronwen. When the guys get in trouble with her, they
come out of her office looking like they'd been dragged through
a knothole, but they're nice as pie for a couple of weeks. They
cringe when anybody mentions sex. I don't quite know how she
does it. Anyhow, she'll cool him off."  She grinned. "One way or
another."	



	"Just for curiosity, how is he with the nurses and interns?"



	She turned bright pink.



	"He's a perfect gentleman with us. Most of the time."



	"Thanks, Taria," I said. "When you see my people, I'd
appreciate it if you'd tell 'em for me to start doing pushups. I
want 'em in good shape when I get back to duty. Oh, yeah, and
tell Teresa I haven't forgotten she owes me, no matter how many
medals she gets."



	"Sure will," she said. "You just get your rest, and we'll have
you out of here as fast as we can." She went through the door. I
still couldn't turn my head, but I imagined her switching that
little butt.



	I felt a lot better the next day.



	Captain Hayden didn't show up until around three o'clock that
afternoon  He stood down at the end of the bed so I could see
him. Handsome fellow. California written all over him. Surfer
type. I generally prefer the brainy ones, but, on the other
hand, I've actually known a couple of Californians with IQs in
three figures. Taria's obviously no dummy, I thought, and that
blush looked like an endorsement to me. He also looked slightly
familiar, but I couldn't place him.



	"Dr. Taria tells me you're asking questions," he said with a
smile. He picked up the chart hanging off a hook and looked at
it. He looked up. "You'll live." Bigger smile.



	"I figured that out all by myself already, Doctor," I said.
"What I had in mind was a little more complex. At the moment,
for example, my sex  life is seriously inhibited."



	"OK," he said, turning serious. "I know all about you--red hot
athlete, right? You'll be back in the field pretty soon, in
fact." He stuck up his hand and started ticking things off on
his fingers. I figured he'd need both hands. "Starting from the
top: concussion and a cut on the head, not serious. Strained
neck muscle--you'll be seeing your chiropractor regularly for a
while. Two simple fractures of right arm, simple healing. Left
shoulder, slight separation, already fixed but semi-immobilized
until tomorrow. That's why your left arm's restrained. See,
you're practically OK."



	"You did notice that my left leg is sticking up in the air?"



	"Well, yes," he said. "That's where I came in. A few bomb
fragments, a compound fracture of the tibia, but all
straightened out, by yours truly. It'll be OK in a few weeks.
Work out for a month or so and you'll be the scourge of the
javelin throwers again. You'll set off all the airport alarms,
though. 



	"By the way," he added, "you look kind of familiar. Do I know
you from somewhere?"



	Oldest line I could think of, but not all of us can be creative.



	"Did you grow up in Texas?" I asked.



	"Good God!" he said, "Me? Texas? You have to be kidding. I went
to Boston once, but that was plenty. I've lived in California
all my life and as soon as I get out of this uniform I'll be
back so fast nobody will have missed me. Maybe we met in
California?"



	My, my, he'd grown. He used to be a skinny little bastard, now
he looked  like Mr. Universe. I remembered, oh, yes.



	"Where are your glasses, Billy?" I asked. I smiled at him.
Knowingly.



	I watched the light dawn, slowly.



	"I wear contacts now," he said. He kept looking at me. "No.
Can't be. Oh, yes, oh, my God, Janey!"



	"Yeah," I said. "Long time no see."



	Blonde men blush ever so nicely, don't you think?



	"Uh, how've you been?" he said.



	"Fair to middlin', Billy. How about you?"



	He pulled himself together. I could see the shoulders come up.



	"Look, I can explain . . . ."



	"No need, Doctor," I said, "I knew what those little boys were
saying: 'Can't score unless you get a ladder, Billy.' Oh, yeah,
I heard. I also know more about peer pressure than I did then."



	"Janey, what can I say? I'm sorry. I really am. I was at the
time--I felt terrible."



	"It's really OK," I said. "I got out of that damn school a
couple of weeks after you dumped me, and anyhow I only hated you
for about four years. It wouldn't have been so bad except that
you were the first guy that ever looked at me. Big ol' Janey. I
thought you were crazy when you started hanging around, anyhow."



	Billy sat down on the edge of the bed.



	"You know," he said, "I really was stuck on you. I think I
loved you. But I didn't have any character in those days."



	"Character was scarce in Encino High, Billy, and sophomores
aren't noted for it anyhow," I said. "I hated that place with a
passion, and I was absolutely delighted when my mom finished
with that awful movie she was in and decided to go home."



	"Well, I'm still sorry," he said. "It took me a while to learn
to tell people to go to hell."



	"I hear you've got a lot of character now, Billy."



	"I know what you've heard," he said, "and it's not true. These
people just don't understand California."



	"Sure," I said, "I've noticed that. Hardly anybody understands
California." I smiled.



	"OK, OK, I give up." He grinned. "I've got to go deal with some
poor slob who fell off a ladder, but I'll be back as soon as I
can. And by the way, I'll get Taria to put a neck brace on and
free up your head."



	"I'll see you, Billy."



	When he left I rang the bell and Taria came in about fifteen
minutes later, fuming.



	"The sons of bitches are trying to save money by cutting the
staff again, Janey," she said.  "I guess you've noticed we have
practically no nurses. I'm sorry I took so long."



	"That's OK. Your Dr. Hayden said you could get me a neck brace
and take me out of this iron maiden. Would you?"



	"Of course," she said. "I'll be right back."



	She was, and she fixed me up. It  was great to move my head,
even if I did get dizzy every time I tried it.



	Lt. Ivan came in shortly afterward and stood on one foot and
then the other, trying to apologize about his medal. I told him
to forget it; sergeants run the Army and officers get medals. He
thought that was a gross injustice. So did I, but I didn't tell
him. Naturally, I asked what Major Hunt was up to.



	Ivan laughed fit to kill. "Nothing, now, Sergeant. I was there!
You should have seen it! He caught Lt. Col. Greybeard just
outside the regimental office. He was waving the field manual
all around, and he told the colonel all about the whole thing.
Then the colonel took the manual away from him, flipped through
it, and showed him some footnote that said something like, if it
works, fuck the rules. The major just saluted and walked off. It
was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud."



	He'd obviously been talking to Pvt. Sandman, who talks like
that all the time. LOL, he calls it for some reason. I asked
Ivan if he'd ask the Op Sergeant, a guy named Eli, and to
smuggle in some of that moonshine he makes. Figured I'd need it,
sooner or later.	



	I was half asleep that night around nine o'clock when BillyG
came back. I never knew what that "G" stood for, and he wouldn't
tell me. His mother was probably from Waco. Now I can see that
my mind wasn't quite back to normal, but it seemed perfectly
reasonable to worry about that weird initial at the time.



	There was only a night light on, so when he closed the door I
could barely see him. He came over and sat down on the edge of
the bed. He was wearing one of those green pajama things doctors
wear. If you've ever seen one of those hospital gowns you know
what I looked like: propped up on pillows, locked to a pulley
and some thin cables, probably a third of me covered by casts
and bandages and about half of what was left showing through
slits in a short, white cotton shift that tended to open down
the middle. 



	"Hey, girl, how you doin'?" he asked. He reached out and put
his hand on my forehead. It felt nice.



	"You're still treating me like we were both fourteen years
old," I said.



	He shuddered.



	"I'll stop that right now," he said. "I'd really hate to be
back then. But I'm awfully glad to see you. I used to dream
about you."



	"Nightmares, more likely."



	"Not to mention that you got me through algebra and I helped
you with history."



	He put his hand on my good knee. 

	

	He smiled. "I'd have given fifty dollars to do that when I was
fourteen, and I didn't have but about thirty cents."



	"You could have done it free," I said, returning his smile.
"Just thinking of a boy with his hand on my knee turned me to
jelly in those days." I frowned a little. "In fact, it feels
pretty good right now."



	"It really does," he said, sounding bemused. "You have very
nice knees. I remember thinking that while you were on the
table, before I even knew who you were."



	"According to Taria, you should be progressing to boob
inspection any minute,"

I said, "but I'd as soon you stayed with the knee for while. You
could move your hand around a little maybe."



	"My pleasure." He starting stroking the inside of the knee,
then moved up a little, not far, just stroking back and forth.
"I like this. I think maybe the thigh is even better than the
knee."



	I was thinking that a woman could do a lot worse than have a
nice, handsome man caressing the inside of her thigh while she
was trussed up like a bondage enthusiast. Then he leaned over
and kissed me, lightly.



	"I don't know what I'd have given for that," he said.



	"Might cost you a bundle now," I said, smiling. "I'm worth
more." I tried to move toward him a little and nearly jerked my
leg loose from its moorings. So I stayed put. "Give me another
kiss, Billy."



	He stood up, came to the head of bed and squatted down, sliding
his arm around the back of my neck brace. Then he kissed me,
good. As well as he could, he pressed his chest up against the
half of mine he could get at. First he kissed my ear. Then he
pushed my hair out of the way and kissed my forehead. I held on
to him, sort of, with my becasted right arm. Finally, he kissed
my mouth. Licked my lips, asking permission to enter. Granted.
He slid his tongue in and began to explore. Met resistance--my
tongue. We wrestled that way a little while, then he got
underneath and began to suck on my lip. I was seriously liking
this. I said to myself, this isn't high school anymore, Toto. He
backed off and looked at me in the half light.



	"You're still lovely," he said.



	"You've learned some smooth moves since I knew you, including
some highly unlikely compliments. But I'm not complaining yet."



	"You married?" he asked.



	"No," I said. "You?"



	"Nope. All I've done since I knew you was go to school one way
or another. Never had the inclination."



	"Me, either," I said. "But I got asked a couple of times." I
laughed. "Big, rough guys that thought they could handle me."



	"What are you doing in the Army?"



	"Being the best goddam sergeant in the First Battalion." I
thought a minute. "While there was a First Battalion." I just
started crying. All those guys, men and women I'd known. Some
I'd liked a lot. "I should have saved my platoon, at least. And
I couldn't do a goddam thing." I never cry. But I did that time.



	Billy held me and stroked my forehead while the tears ran down
my face. I finally stopped sniveling. He pulled out a
handkerchief from somewhere and cleaned me up.



	"It must have been awful," he said finally. I nodded. My neck
hurt.



	"Yeah, it was. I just had to keep on slogging, trying to help
some of 'em along. I'm maybe going to get out of the Army. Had
enough, I think. France was bad, this is ten times worse. Police
action, my ass. Getting hurt doesn't bother me, that's part of
the deal. But all the rest of those people. Shit!"



	He just held me for a little while. Finally, I wanted to talk
again. I drew back, and he let me go. But he still held my hand.



	"You always wanted to be a doctor, didn't you?"



	"Yeah. Since I was a little kid. What are you going to do if
you get out?"



	"Back to graduate school, I guess. My college grades weren't
great, but they're good enough to get me in Ed School somewhere.
And they do special things for veterans."



	"Back to Texas?" he asked.



	"Sure, why not? My parents are great, and they're still there.
Man, did they hate it when I joined the Army!" I laughed. "Now
my mom sends me boxes of broken cookies."



	"Why'd you join?"



	"Why not? It was one place they thought I was hot stuff. They
give you tests, you know, instead of worrying about grades. I do
all right on those."



	"Want to come home to California with me? No strings. Not for a
while, anyhow."



	"BillyG, you are damn near proposing to a woman you haven't
seen since you were a sophomore in high school! You're out of
your mind!" Then I laughed, and started crying again. What a
mess.

	

	"All that's changed is now I've got character," he said. "I'll
get to know you again."



	"Why don't you just rub my leg again, like you were? I'm a
mess, and you're so nice it makes my teeth hurt." I smiled
through the tears.



	"All right." He smiled back, and wiped my face again. And
started rubbing my leg. Somehow, I felt relaxed. I don't see how
anybody can sleep tense, and I'd had a lot of sleep, but I was
feeling relaxed for the first time in a while. Since the battle
started, I guess.



	"How's the man who fell off the ladder?" I asked.



	"He'll be OK. Not as fast as you will, though." He smiled
again. "Want me to go off and let you sleep?"



	"NO! I mean, no, would you stay a while? Can you? I mean are
you on duty or something?"



	"I'm off duty. I'll stay as long as you want."



	"Will you kiss me again?" I felt funny just asking like that,
but I was in no position to use any body language.



	"You're a sick lady. Are you sure you want to play those games?"



	"I'm not exactly sick, I've just got a broken leg and some
other things. I don't think another kiss would do me much harm.
Do you, Doctor?"



	I guess he didn't think so, either, because he kissed me again.
I was itching to hold him, and I couldn't.



	So he did what he wanted. He kissed my cheeks, my brow, my ear.
He kissed my mouth again, and held my head with his hand. I used
my broken arm to nudge the hand that was on my thigh.



	"I think the boob inspection would be all right, now," I said.



	So he reached up and untied the little pennants that held the
gown together over my chest. Then he just put his hand gently on
my breast, holding it and stroking my nipple lightly with his
thumb.



	"I think you'll pass," he said, and smiled at me. "Maybe an A
plus."



	He slipped his other hand under my back and lay his head on my
chest and was still. I lay there, propped up on the pillows,
relaxed and calm, with pleasure running through my whole body.
His hand still held my left breast. I could feel the weight of
his head when I breathed. In the pit of my stomach I could sense
a growing feeling of desire, a feeling I hadn't had for a long
time. Finally, I spoke:



	"Billy, put your hand back on my leg."



	He raised his head and looked at me, a question in his eyes.



	"Yes," I said. "Please." I moved my good leg to open the way.
That I could do. The rest was up to him.



	His lips came to my breast, and his hand went to my thigh. I
simply closed my eyes and gave myself to feeling as his tongue
caressed my nipple, and his hand stroked my sensitive skin. I
wanted to hold his head, but I couldn't, so I just lay there,
passively soaking up the generosity of his movements. Slowly his
hand moved up my thigh, stroking gently as it moved. I was
floating in a sea of sensation, a surge of feeling that grew
stronger every second. I began to tremble. Billy kept stroking,
kept using his tongue to caress my nipple. Then, suddenly, my
body shook; surges of feeling swept through me. I cried out,
just a moan.



	"Oh, Billy!" I said. He kissed me once more, harder. Then again
he kissed my face, my cheeks. I yearned to hold him. Instead, he
held me, putting his arm underneath me and pressing me lightly
to his chest. His hand was still on my leg. then it moved to the
lips of my vagina and opened them just enough for him to insert
two fingers. His lips went back to my breast. He moved his
fingers gently, touching my clitoris, driving me once more into
ecstasy. My leg moved of its own to crush his hand.



	Then, slowly, I relaxed. He pulled his head back a little and
looked at me, smiling.



	"I never did anything like that before," he said.



	"I'm so sorry," I said. "I wanted to hold you, to feel you
inside me. I couldn't."



	"Hey, I'm the one that arranged for you to be immobilized! Can
I complain if you don't move?"



	I laughed. "Yes," I said, "you might conceivably have reason to
complain. I guess I owe you one."



	"Do you ever! You ought to be warned--you're not getting
discharged from this hospital until I collect."



	"Sounds fine to me." I kind of stretched, not really the way I
wanted to, but I did my best.  "It seems my sex life wasn't as
inhibited as I thought."



	"No, but your bandages sure have put a crimp in mine!" Then he
leaned over and kissed me gently. "Time for beddy-bye. You OK?"



	"Could you get me some water?"



	I drank as he held the glass to my lips, careful not to spill. 



	"Enough." I said. "Thank you. For everything."



	"Just ring when you need anything. I'll see that someone's
there to answer."



	Then he kissed me again, lightly, and got up from the bed.



	He looked down at me.



	"Better than  high school, huh?"



	"Probably better than grad school's going to be."



	"Come to California."



	"I'll think about it. The enticements are stronger than I
thought."



	"Good night, Janey."



	"'Night, lover."



	He left, and I went to sleep. Happy.



	The next morning I was lying there plugged in to the room
computer listening to a Purcell voluntary when Teresa came
bouncing in.



	"Hi, Sergeant! Guess what! I'm going to Washington! The
President's going to give me my medal! She heard about the whole
thing and set it up herself!" She was grinning from ear to ear,
then she sobered all of a sudden. "You're going to be OK, aren't
you? The elltee said you were."



	"Yeah, I think so," I said. "And I'm really glad you're getting
your trip back home. You deserve it." I smiled at her. "But
there's something I want to talk to you about."



	"Sure, Sergeant, what can I do for you?"



	"Nothing much. I just wanted to ask how you felt when you
cleaned out those guys up on the side of the hill."



	Teresa paused before she answered.



	"I felt great," she said. "You gave me a job and I did it, so I
felt great. I didn't much like shooting all those guys--it was
like fish in a barrel. Not much choice, though, was there? I
felt great."



	"O.K., I want to tell you something. You're part of a long
tradition, and I want you to know how to tell the people you'll
be commanding someday." I hesitated. "This might seem kind of
corny."



	"I'm listening."



	"What I want to say is this. The Navy gets us there. The
Marines make the landings. The Air Force tries to protect us.
But this is what you need to remember: No piece of territory
ever really belongs to the USA until there's a dogface soldier
standing on it with a rifle on her shoulder. That's what you
did, Teresa, and you did good."	



					-----The End-----



NOTE 1:  If I hurt anybody's feelings I'm really sorry, and I
apologize.



NOTE 2:  I want to thank Miles Naismith for reading proof and
for giving me a lot of good advice on military and other
matters. Being stubborn, I didn't take all the advice, so
whatever's wrong is my fault, not his.



Copyright 1998 by Jane Urquhart. All rights reserved.



My address is Janey98@hotmail.com	











	







	



	 



	



	



	



	



	



	



	



	



	

	



	

	  



	



	



	



	



	 



	



	



	







	



	        



	



	

 

	







	



	



	







	






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